Let's Wreak Some Havoc
by The Implausable Fanatic
Summary: They unleashed their unruly powers and had been banished into another world. Nothing was worse than a mortal life and the Fear, Chaos, and Pain that came along with it. Thorin/OC (slight Fili/OC and Kili/OC). Revolves around OC and Norse mythology. (In-Progress & Un-beta'd)
1. Chapter 1: A Slow Start

**_A/N: I need to start by giving thanks to two very dear friends of mine, and my dear Russian friend if you are reading this I should only hope you do not lose what little respect for me you have left! Fear, Chaos and Pain came from Batman's villains. Fear being the Scarecrow, Chaos being Joker and Pain being Bane. The four horsemen I got based off of "Supernatural", though I tweaked the characters to my liking. I suppose a disclaimer would be appropriate, I own naught the Tolkien novel known as The Hobbit, or There and Back Again. I do not own "Supernatural", either._**

_**Also, there's a lot going on here. We've got the protagonist; Fear, and her sisters; Chaos and Pain. Besides the obvious power of their names, they also have influence from the seven deadly sins (Lust, Envy, Wrath, Greed, Pride, Sloth and Gluttony) and they wield powers of their Makers. Their Makers, The Four Horsemen, Death, War, Famine and Pestilence are self explanatory (hopefully). Next, with the Gods the only one we hear from right now is Loki, obviously everyone's favourite Go****d (****Thank you Tom Hiddleston!****).**_

_**Don't panic, this chapter is just an introduction to the story. The fun comes next!**_

* * *

Three best friends, more like sisters really, were as close as could be despite their differences. There was one with dark black hair, brown eyes you'd have thought were black and tanned skin due to a Polynesian ethnicity. Another, golden blonde with grey eyes yet pale skin, the Russian in her veins practically visible. The last, with a fiery red mane of hair and sharp green eyes with a pale complexion was undoubtedly of Scottish dissent. Though it be true they were born in different parts if the world, their fates had been intertwined long before their births. So it was by no luck that the three had been moved to the same English speaking country, where their native tongues held back their development in speaking, reading, and writing as children. They had, without coincidence, become the best of friends considering they spent so much time in ESL (English Second Language, a program in elementary schools in which children who struggle with English are sent so as to not bring down the rest of the "normal" students) and it was to everyone's surprise when the three grew into their adolescent years to have a knack for English literature, ever outshining the "normal" students. They became passionate for the world of fiction, each with an individual and shared love for certain genres. It was at a great cost, however, for in order to grow so skilled in a language to which they were never meant to speak, they had to ditch their native cultures, though they taught each other their native tongues.

So it was by no luck, either, that one day four frightening figures stood before them in the empty courtyard of their high school on the last day of junior year after everyone had left in haste of parties to start the summer. Instantly, they were drawn in with awe. The dark haired girl admired a tall, frail looking man in a well tailored black suit. His face concealed not the old age of his, yet his eyes and hair were just as dark as hers, albeit his face extremely pale. To her surprise she stepped up right in front of him as he claimed to be Death. A staff was woven out of thin air and it was made of a type of dark wood unknown to the girls. The wood twisted in a spiral up with intricate carvings that she didn't understand, and at the top was a sort of jewel, an ominous dark red it glowed as it was entrapped in the black wood that resembled the tailored suit he wore.

"Fear," he said, looking into her eyes- _nay_, into her soul, "I give you the power of the seven deadly sins." And with that she had felt as if something had been yanked from her and she fell onto one knee and bowed her head involuntarily to her Maker.

The blonde stepped up to the man beside him who referred to himself as War. He seemed to be the youngest and strongest looking, clad in a golden armor and helmet as Roman warriors once did. His skin was tan as if spending long days under the suns of battlefields, his eyes a deep and sorrowful blue, almost as if he wished he didn't have to do this. Around her hands was woven a white staff, with wood twisted with designs in similar fashions of the previous into spirals, yet entrapped inside the wood glowed a yellow, almost golden jewel matching the warrior's armor. The patterns scribed into the wood weren't as extravagant as the first.

"Chaos," he began, piercing into her soul as she let out a gasp at the disturbance, as if she had been choked, "I give you-" he hesitated, then continued, "The power of the seven deadly sins." And with that, something much more painful than her lungs had been yanked out, and she bent a knee and bowed involuntarily.

Next, the redhead stood in front of the ones who called themselves Pestilence and Famine. To her left, stood Pestilence. A tall, strong looking man if not for his white hair and green tinted teeth and eyes and the mucus dripping out his nose to match the stained dark green hospital robe he wore. To her right, stood Famine. An old man, though not nearly as old as Death. He stood slouched with one arm leaning his weight on a cane. His hair a sickly white and his body incredibly thin and pale under a blue rag-like-cloth that draped his body. His face was sunken and he looked as if he had never eaten a proper meal in his life. She was woven a staff like the others with the least of carvings and a dark blue sort of wood twisted into swirls and enwrapped itself around an emerald stone.

"Pain," they said in unison, their stare gripping hard on something that could not be seen, "We give you the power of the seven deadly sins." All three were knelt with bowed heads and when their own free will was restored the admirable figures had vanished. As they stood they clasped the gorgeous staffs firmly and looked at each other, feeling empowered, vengeful and merciless.

Of course, it took them quite a while to get a grip on their new powers. They had an entire year to practice on unsuspecting teenagers, after all. At first they strut through the halls and consumed boys with lust, even a few girls. But more amusingly, they filled girls with envy, then even wrath. And as they learned to control their powers they grew wiser and thought best to hide from the watchful eyes. So hide they did. Standing in the middle of a crowded hallway they made themselves invisible and watched as fear chaos and pain spread. But it wasn't just their school they had affected, oh no. They had sat around a table and without lifting a finger they caused all sorts of havoc. This went on for a few years, spreading fear, creating chaos and causing pain from the comfort of wherever. As she drank coffee in the morning Pain practically felt the moisture being sucked from crops out of a desperate African village, and it felt so good.

_Until one day_, when the makers, the four horsemen, returned. They ruined everything! It started with Pestilence, just a simple virus that spread like wild fire. Through this he commanded Fear and she was forced to splurge out an aura across the world as Pestilence evolved the virus into so much more. Next came War, creating a great commotion over the vaccination and cure of the virus, and he commanded Chaos who spread her aura unwillingly. Then came Famine. His hunger devoured the people, the hunger for a cure, for health had consumed them and poor old Pain had to cast her aura without will. But Death didn't come, which infuriated Fear. She had casted a fear so great amongst the world for feeling like she was cheated. Fear, Chaos and Pain were bound by chains, not figuratively, and Fear was furious that her own Maker had the audacity to hide his face in cowardice. Her fury grew so wrathful that it had finally caught her Maker's attention. He showed up, stern face as if he was to scold a child with a temper. But that was exactly what he had planned to do.

They had set the apocalypse in motion and Death no longer had need for his young, ill tempered, stubborn child of a monster and he planned to do exactly what Death does best. Through all this time, War had kept an eye on the three. He watched their deeds from afar and grew to be quite fond of them and their mischief. So when he realized that the pretentious Death planned to rob him of his pets, he began plotting. He begged the gods for help, though none came for Fear had grown so strong that she reached them and they had begun to fear Death himself. Silly, and impractical for a bunch of immortals, isn't it? But of course, you want most what you can't have and if there was anyone that was off limits to Death, it was certainly the immortals. The arrival of War had set the Gods in quarrel; however, there was one God who went unaffected. The very same God who grew amused and pleased at the actions of Fear. The three were never up to any good, of course he admired them! It was none other than Loki, _God of Mischief_. He offered to help War for he grew just as fond of them and reluctantly, War took it. Loki stole the three away and what he did to them no one ever found out. It was needless to say that War faced his consequences because Loki was untouchable. Death did not seem angry or agitated in his actions. Although, war continued on earth, as did Famine and Pestilence, life was sparsely taken, leaving many souls to linger with a half life in agony. This was how Death sought vengeance. All the while, Famine and Pestilence stood by and watched at the naïve War and his desperate actions, though they did nothing to aid him nor to stop him.

* * *

They stood with their great staffs in hand and stared at the scene. Moments ago they stood on dusty rubble surrounded by savage infected creatures once considered humane. Now they shielded their eyes from the bright sun that sent unwanted heat. Thankfully, Chaos pulled thick clouds to shield the sun and created more dark clouds to cover the vibrant blue sky. They stared out at the forestry around them, so excitingly green, a green they hadn't seen in years. They heard bushes rustle but made no attempt at concealment.

Fear, ever so dark and ever so terrifying, was the leader of the three. Loyal and protective of her sisters, she stepped up to confront the nuisance.

The golden headed Chaos, clever and quick to follow her sister's actions, was eager to use her powers and stood next to Fear.

Pain took a few steps back behind her sisters who had immediately sprung in front to protect her. The fiery headed girl was the more conservative of the three whence it came to their powers, believe it or not.

They were here, why not have a little fun, no matter where _here _exactly is.

It wasn't until thirteen dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard came stumbling into the opening upon ponies and a horse that grins and smirks crept upon their faces and their grips on their staffs had relaxed. Good, Middle Earth could use a little more Fear, Chaos and Pain.


	2. Chapter 2: Mischief Is Never Managed

_**A/N: Okay, so I am sincerely sorry if I got any of the lore wrong, but I tried my hardest to figure it out! Also, leave a review if you'd like, it would really help me shape where this story is going.**_

* * *

It was the pompous King under the Mountain's pony that stumbled across the trio first. His eyes widened at the sight before him, he hadn't heard any sound and didn't expect anything or anyone to be around for miles. To cover up his obliviousness, he hopped off his pony only to have his pride sucked out from underneath him once more when he reached only up to their shoulders.

It was Chaos who spoke first.

"Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór," She said, with authority in her voice. Thorin looked more baffled than ever as the rest of the company unmounted and joined him by his side.

Now Pain stood forward, her voice filled with a faux kindness. "We have been sent to aid you on your... _Quest_."

Immediately, Fear racked her mind for someone Thorin would believe. This was a hard task.

"And _who_ sent you?" His voice filled with accusation.

Fear gripped her staff, straightened her back, and looked fiercely down at Thorin when she said, "We were told you would be untrusting and most difficult to persuade. It is by the word of-" she paused, "Well, they have many names," she continued, thinking of Loki, "But I believe here you know him by Aulë, or _Mahal_."

Thorin scoffed, this reaction was obvious. She reeled back what pride he had left when she bent down and stared hard at his face, "You dare scoff at the word of Mahal?" And the jesting manner was wiped off his face. A hand rested upon his shoulder and Thorin looked up to see Gandalf, right on cue.

The trio knew this was a load of rubbish and it would be damn near impossible to fool both Thorin and Gandalf. So instead, as the dwarrows, save for Thorin, left to look busy along with their burglar whilst Chaos spread sloth amongst them, making them lazy and tired as they fiddled with their thumbs on the outskirts of the trees trying to ease drop on the conversation between the wizard, their leader and the three mysterious women.

Thorin stood back, his arms crossed over his chest as he scowled unhappily.

Fear spoke to Gandalf, trying to wedge in some truth in her false story.

"We are not from this realm, Mithrandir," Said Fear, surprising Gandalf with the knowledge if his Sindarin name. "We come from another place, a place that had been consumed with perilous danger. Our lives were to be ended, but the one you call Mahal had spared our lives," _Sort of_, "And we were told that the line of Durin, and many others, would cease to exist if Thorin refused to bring us along." Now she had no idea where she was headed with this, but she was having fun when Thorin's face was contorted and he was torn at her words, no doubt thinking about his nephews.

Gandalf seemed to trust them, that old fool. He asked for a moment with Thorin, politely dismissing the trio.

Pain blew out a whistle and from the trees emerged three great stallions, a black one with red reins, a white one with golden reins and a brownish red one with black reins that followed them compliantly, leaving the dwarf and wizard baffled at the sudden appearance of three great horses.

They walked away towards the company, and Pain worked her charm.

As the redhead smiled widely, speaking to Thorin's most trusted Balin and Dwalin, the other sisters sat next to poor old unsuspecting Bilbo, grinning mischievously at him.

"Tell me, Bilbo Baggins, in your haste to pack did you bring everything you needed?" The blonde asked. Bilbo looked back and forth at the two, confused by their words but had no time to reply when the dwarf princes stood before them, interrupting his thought process and leaving him to wonder if he had brought his handkerchief.

Fear and Chaos stood, sending a wicked glance to each other as smirks threatened their lips. A stern faced Fili eyed Chaos and her long blonde hair as Kili stood next to him, grinning cheekily as if he was excited to see the presence of someone so beautiful after the company of the dwarves.

Chaos opened her mouth and said, "Óin, black of hair."

Fili said nothing, looking rather confused.

She continued on, "Náin, black of hair. Dáin, black of hair."

He searched her face, wondering where she was going with this.

"Thrór, black of hair. Thráin, black of hair. Thorin, black of hair."

Her eyes turned to Kili for a brief moment, "Kili, black of hair."

Then her gaze fell upon his golden locks and Fili's eyes fell to the ground, a fury of wrath building up inside him.

"Now, now, sister. Do not tease the future King of Erebor, he'll have your head on a stake." Said Fear, sucking the wrath out of Fili and replacing it with pride.

"He'll have to catch me, first!" Chaos replied with a snort, sending a challenging look into Fili's deep blue eyes and earning a laugh from his younger brother. Fili had just opened his mouth to say something clever when Ori crept around him and spoke something no one else had the mind to inquire,

"Excuse me, Miss, but what are your names? If you don't mind me asking,"

Fear found the dwarf to be ever so adorable and polite that she bent down to answer him.

"My dear Ori, I'm afraid we have no names here." Of course, Fear Chaos and Pain were hardly suitable names if they ever wanted to join the company.

"We did once, though that was a long time ago somewhere far away. Perhaps you lot would be kind enough to give us names, however you are all free to call us what you like." Said Chaos, who seemed just as fond of him as her sister.

"How about some Hobbit names?" asked Bilbo from behind them. They turned to face him as he pointed to Fear and said "Mosco," then to Chaos he said, "Moro," and to the deep in conversation Pain he said, "Minto,"

It was Gloin, the banker of the company, who spoke next.

"I believe not! These women deserve names of dwarfish origins, would you disagree, _burglar_?"

"I don't believe this hobbit has stolen a thing in his life, Master Gloin, which means that label is highly inappropriate." Said Fear, forcing the proud dwarf to stare at his feet.

"Another question, Miss," Began Ori politely once again, "But, how do you know _our_ names?" To him, Fear smiled. She was beginning to like this dwarf.

"We know many things, Master Ori, your names are the least of import upon that long list, though it is rather useful that Mahal has blessed us so." She didn't want to lie to the poor kid, but how else were they to explain their extensive knowledge of the quest before them if not to blame it on their God?

"Then how is it," Began a suspicious Fili, "That you just so happened to have horses with you?"

Fear sighed.

"My dear prince, we are weary. We have been brought here during a terrible time in our realm and I wish to answer these questions no longer,"

She stalked off, beckoning Ori to follow. They sat against a trunk of a large tree where Fear closed her eyes and pretended to rest. She wasn't remotely tired, she just didn't want to lie to these people. She left that up to Chaos who answered question after question, rather enjoying herself as she made up lie after lie. Pain and Fear kept their ears out, being sure to catch every word so that if asked again later, they could retell the story without difference. So the company began to grasp the personalities of the sisters, Pain being childlike and immature, yet also sweet and conniving when she needed be. Chaos, being clever and eager, making her an arrogant fool at times. Fear was the most mysterious. It was clear to see she was protective of her sisters; she was the balance between too much trouble and not enough.

With time, Thorin and Gandalf returned. The leader stalked off straight to his pony as the Company followed his lead without commands being given. Gandalf looked at Fear, nodding his head with a smirk upon his lips, and the girls mounted their horses and followed the company. They realized that the timeline of the story had only just begun and it was only moments after Bilibo caught up and gave Balin the contract did they find the three girls.

Pain trotted alongside Balin and Dwalin, right behind Thorin at the front, whereas Fear and Chaos rode alongside Bilbo, noticing Fili riding directly behind them, Kili by his side.

It was Thorin's voice that caught their attention.

"Do you know of the dangers that lie ahead?" he asked gruffly, as if he hardly cared.

"Yes." Said Pain on behalf of all of them.

"Then you know that I am not resp-"

"Yes, Thorin Oakenshield. We will not hold you responsible for any harm that is thrown at us, nor can you hold us responsible for any harm that comes to your company if you do not heed our counsel." Fear said, interrupting his badly rehearsed speech. Her patience was wearing thin with this crude dwarf as she held herself back from pouring fear into his mind. Thorin did not reply, and he did not turn around. She looked to her right, down at Bilbo, and noticed he seemed rather comfortable on his pony. Lifting her gaze to Chaos with a sly grin, she pulled a black handkerchief out of thin air and handed it to Bilbo.

"I thought you might have forgotten this, you are welcome to use mine." She said. He thanked her, and wiped his nose courteously, due to the fact that he didn't really need it. Not until a few minutes later, when his nose began to itch and tingle and he started sneezing like a maniac. It took Chaos everything she had not to burst out into laughter. Even Pain caught on when she noticed the handkerchief he used.

"Perhaps you're having an allergic reaction to all this horsehair!" said Pain, stifling her giggles.

"Good thing you brought this handkerchief!" Bilbo said to Fear obliviously.

The handkerchief she had given him was in fact what had created his allergy in the first place.

"Mischief managed?" asked Chaos in a whisper.

"Mischief is never managed, my dear sister." Replied Fear, a smirk across her face.

Fili had bombarded them with more questions, but Chaos had made it clear that they would save the answers for another day.

"Losing your home takes a great deal out of you. Not being welcomed back takes even more. It must be hard to know you ride to a place where so many long to go back, where so many dream of returning. It's quite the pressure on your shoulders." Chaos said, trying to turn the focus to him.

"Are you saying you're not welcomed back to your home?" Fili asked.

"That's enough!" Said Fear to her sister, her voice sharp and full of authority.

Fear rode in silence for some time, her thoughts on Death and his betrayal. Then, her thoughts drifted to War. What had become of him? Was he punished for helping the sisters? And finally, her thoughts drifted to Loki. She had a great respect for him, always did. The moment he laid his hands on the trio their chains had been broken. Did the fear and chaos and pain still linger back on earth, or had it vanquished at their disappearance? Did the horsemen create three new figures to control in their place? What would be awaiting them when they got home? Would they ever get home again, and how would Death greet them? With open arms _or a scythe_?

She shuddered at the thought and moved up until she rode next to Gandalf.

"What did you say to him?" Fear asked.

"Do you know what I am?" he inquired. She nodded her head.

"Of course. One of the Istari; practically immortal creatures here in Middle Earth to guide and help its inhabitants. The Istari are a group of wizards." She answered, rather proud of her knowledge.

"Yes, then you know that it was by the order of the Valar, whom we serve, that we had been sent to Middle Earth. We are also known as Maiar, created by the Valar in the eyes and approval of Eru. I merely explained to Thorin that I had reason to believe that you had been sent here on similar purposes. To guide and help these inhabitants. Although, I must say I found you three rather confusing. Sent by Aulë, you said?" His eyes peered out from under his large grey hat.

"Well, by the Valar, I suppose. Though, where we come from they have other names. The Gods, I mean."

"And I take it you had other names as well?" He inquired. She noticed what he was trying to do, she also noticed Thorin listening intently. She may or may not have been the reason his pony started thrashing about. Returning to her senses, she turned her gaze to Gandalf.

"You seek our names." She said quietly. It was not a question.

"You must understand that it would be much easier to trust someone with a name than someone without."

"And yet, people find it incredibly easy to trust someone with multiple names rather than someone with just one." She said accusingly at Gandalf.

"Please. Your names?" He asked. She sighed. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Very well. Sisters, introduce yourselves to the Company." She said, loud enough for everyone to grow quiet.

The redhead turned her horse around to face most of the company and said, "My name is Pain." With a grin that reached from ear to ear, that only spread wider when she saw the confusion of the dwarrows and hobbit.

Next, the arrogant blonde haired rode her horse gracefully until she reached Pain.

Turning to face the company, she said, "And I am Chaos," with her lips turned upwards slyly. Last was the black of hair, who rode where she was next to Gandalf, but stared straight at Thorin with a blank face.

"_Fear_, _at your service_."


	3. Chapter 3: Any Other Name

**_A/N: I wonder how many times Fear sighs in this chapter…_**

* * *

The shocked faces of the dwarrows registered satisfied smirks upon the girl's. One meaningful look from Gandalf told Thorin to keep his mouth shut and swallow his pride. Pain made a successful attempt to explain to the company that these were simply names, _although that was a lie_.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose  
By any other name would smell as sweet."

The only one who seemed worried was Thorin because Pain had made sure to befriend everyone else so as to gain their trust. They rested and made camp while they were still surrounded by thick trees. Poor Gandalf stalked off, muttering about the stubbornness of dwarves. He managed to coax the company away from someplace a farmer had formerly lived with the help of the sisters, the poor house undoubtedly trampled to ruins by trolls. Fear sat upon a rock and observed the situation around her, much to her displeasure. The company worked quickly to set up camp and she watched as Pain teased Kili over something, most likely his lack of beard, to result in him chasing after her as she giggled. Turning her eyes to Chaos, the blonde girl sat on a log in front of the fire and spoke quietly to Fili, her blush quite noticeable in the light from the flickering flames. _Ugh_. Fear let out a sigh.

She rose, capturing the attention of her sisters, and walked into the thick forestry surrounding them. Her back was to the camp so she hadn't noticed the momentary look of concern on Thorin that was wiped away in seconds with a scowl. The sisters followed her hesitantly.

She turned at them sharply, a scowl much like Thorins sketched on her face.

"What do you two think you're doing_?"_ Asked Fear, rather annoyed. Chaos and Pain shifted uncomfortably, their shoulders slouched and they gazed at their feet as if they had never seen such a sight before. "We don't belong here! You can have your fun but keep in mind that we won't be here long,"

To this, Chaos snapped her head up. "How can you be so sure of this? Who knows if we'll ever get back, and I'm not so sure I want to anymore…" Her voice started strong but faded by the end of her sentence to a whisper.

"What do you mean you don't want to go back? Is this about the dwarf prince?" Fear asked.

Chaos blushed scarlet. "No! I mean Death! Lest we forget the last we saw him, he tried to end us! Surely you don't think he'd possibly be happy to see us home? Perhaps it'd best we don't get our hopes up-"

"Exactly! I don't want to get your hopes up! I don't want to be the one to shove reality down your throat, so don't tell me you care for the boy when it's too late, alright?"

"Why can't we stay here?" Pain asked abruptly. She looked like she was intruding on an argument between parents threatening to have a divorce. Guilt plagued her.

"Because, we are bound to our Makers, not these dwarves." Fear replied, trying to talk sense into at least one of her sisters.

"But you felt the chains snap, didn't you? Maybe we have a choice here!" Countered Chaos.

Fear replied with, "And maybe we don't! Maybe, Death will show up any day now and take us home, so-"

"You're just upset because your Maker was the one who tried to kill us!" interjected Chaos. This left Fear's face contorted in frustration.

"Death doesn't _try _to kill anyone. He kills. End of story. _End of discussion_."

Pain let out a cry to protest but one short glare from Fear shut her up.

Fear's eyes caught something quite peculiar as she stared at the staffs of her sisters. Looking up to follow her gaze, Chaos and Pain found the emerald and gold gems entrapped in their staffs to be quite dark, the stones weren't glowing brightly anymore.

Fear sighed. _Again_.

"It is clear to see that you admire the dwarrows. I won't deny that I find myself growing fond of them, either. I only wish that if the day comes where we must leave, it won't pain you to part from the company."

"_Too late_," whispered Pain.

After bickering for a while, they thought the conversation was best to be continued another time. Well, at least that's what Fear said when she ended the discussion.

They walked back in silence, only to realize the camp was empty, the fire still blazing and unfinished stew boiling above it. They listened closely and heard shouts in the distance. Swiftly, they made their way to the company where a wide stream, flooding with water from all the rain earlier that day, was the centre of everyone's attention. They watched as Dwalin caught onto a pony and pulled it onto land, and then they saw a blur of blonde diving into the water.

"No!" Chaos cried out, her word hardly intelligible as she cried out in genuine fear. This was not something Fear could take away.

Pains eyes flew over the company like a hawk and her fears grew when she hadn't found a certain arrow-shooting-dwarf. Fear hated watching her sisters engulfed in something she usually had control over. From the water emerged Fili, clinging into his younger brother. Bifur and Bofur hauled the dwarves out to find that Kili lay motionless

"He's not breathing!" Fili cried out, his eyes wide with panic and his voice hoarse.

Pain's staff had been thrown on the ground, her emerald gem now dark as night, undoubtedly black. The redhead cowered on the ground next to the body, her attempts at easing his pain were useless, and her powers did nothing. Chaos attempted with the same vigor and failed with similar results. In the distance, all three great stallions had evaporated into thin air.

They were powerless. Together, they turned to Fear.

Pain, with tears in her eyes, pleaded to her sister, "Please, won't you try?"

"Me? I'm afraid I will only do it worse." Fear replied, wondering why they would possibly think she could help.

"But consider it! Your Maker is Death himself! Surely if you can give it, you can take away!"

It could go one of two ways. Gods can take a life, or they can give a life, like forcing themselves to throw up. Fear wasn't a God. She could only take someone's death, or give someone death. To take someone's death and absorb it herself would be excruciatingly detrimental to her and she would only be able to do it oh so many times before it killed her.

_Sighing_, she knelt down and grasped her hands firmly around his neck. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Thorin struggling to be released from Dwalin's grip, trying to stop this monster from causing further harm to his nephew because it looked a lot like all she was doing was blocking his airway. Indeed, the young dwarf was not breathing. His pulse had stopped and his skin was icy cold, although that was thanks to the stream. Her face contorted in agony as she let out a cry. Something only she could see, a sort of black mist, escaped Kili's lips and floated into her mouth. Kili gasped for breath as Fear coughed and gagged beside him, her gem on the forgotten staff flickered and turned a dark shade of red, though not completely black. She struggled for breath as Pain barked orders at Fili and Kili to strip their clothes, the dwarrows looked to her in confusion and she said something about hyperthermia.

Thorin tried to thank Fear, he really did, but every time he tried to she would cut him off. In a final attempt to show his gratitude, she finally snapped.

"It's simple, really. Life can be taken away and it can be given. The same can be said about death, so _don't you dare_ thank me for this. That was the last time I take death from your company because it will quite literally kill me the next." She was clearly still weak from what she had done, and for once she grew tired, exhausted even.

Pain and Chaos slept through the whole night, something they hadn't done since they were human.

Fear sat on a cliff for the majority of the night; she could see where the stream fell off to make a nice waterfall. She felt Thorin's gaze boring into her back but she didn't turn. Instead, she watched sunrise and remembered a conversation, a conversation from a long time ago. She smiled to herself. It was often that her human memories came flowing back, although she grew to be unbothered with the fact that the sisters could not remember their names from those times.

* * *

"Okay, miss-I-wake-up-before-the-birds, why do you like the sunrise so much? Let me know what's so great about it, and then I'll explain why I like sunset!"

They had been bickering over the phone for hours; the time was most likely around 3 in the morning.

"Because…" The blonde said, thinking hard, "It's the mark of a new day and all of a sudden yesterday doesn't matter anymore. When the sun comes up, things start to come alive, be it the birds or the squirrels, and it's beautiful to watch. It slowly creeps up and reaches out to share its light. And it makes me feel lucky to have lived another morning; I could have easily died when I was sleeping but I didn't, I could have just fallen asleep and never woken up, and it's like the Sun itself welcomes me back to another day."

A grin stretched across her face that quite literally spread from ear to ear while listening to the optimism of her beloved Russian friend.

"Unfortunately, my explanation isn't as beautiful. I think there's something cynical and wicked about the way darkness consumes all of that light and color. It gets me thinking about how all this life is confined to the inside of our atmosphere and how the darkness reveals what is truly out there, the stars. It makes me feel like the sun cheats and lies to us. My whole childhood I always thought it was the darkness that came and went, and that it was the light that stabilized us. Then I learned that the blue sky was nothing but an illusion, and that the clouds _don't_ keep floating on forever. I learned that it was the _stars_ that seemed to have spread all across space."

A third voice spoke on the line, "So yeah, sunrise is great; but so is sunset. I could've told you that!"

* * *

**A/N: I know what you're thinking. **

_**"WHAT ABOUT THE TROLLS?" **_

**Was I right? **

_**Well, no trolls for this chapter today, thank you very much! **_

**Also, considering the fact that the girls were very passionate about literature I thought it was only right to have a little Shakespeare, hopefully you caught on!**


	4. Chapter 4: Terrible Beauty

After gathering swords and what not from the Troll hoard Pain had "found", Gandalf experienced sudden clarity. He whispered to Fear,

"If there is a Troll Hoard here, there are no doubt trolls close by," but Fear didn't seem too concerned. He couldn't help but wonder if she had steered them away from any possible dangers. Gandalf stopped short when he heard rapid footsteps gaining on them, and he cried out to everyone to arm themselves. But he relaxed and sheathed his sword when he saw Radaghast's familiar face. The two spoke amongst themselves about Dol Guldur, the place the brown wizard visited after he realized an evil power infected the woods he lived in, unaware of the third party listening to their every word. They spoke of a Necromancer that had taken residence in the ruined fortress. While in Dol Guldur, he encountered the spirit of the Witch King of Angmar and Fear silently chuckled to the thought of Radaghast escaping with the Morgul blade he took from the dead _on_ _a bunch of rabbits_. A vicious cry was heard that turned Bilbo a very pale color. That was the cry of a Warg, no doubt. Before Bilbo knew what was happening, two Wargs laid dead at his feet, courtesy of the dwarves. Radaghast took off in hopes of leading the pursuers away and the Company ran for it. They ran for a while, taking cover behind large rocks; _well_, Fear didn't really run. It was more like floating along behind them just an inch off the ground. A breathless Chaos sent a jealous glare in her direction. Okay, so Radaghast definitely took the wrong mushrooms; his attempt at stalling the Wargs and Orcs lasted all of two minutes, up until a godforsaken Warg picked up something fishy. Before she could tell them not to do anything, Kili's arrow had already pierced the nasty Orc and the Warg was hacked into pieces. All of Middle Earth probably heard that. Fear silently cursed the foolish dwarrows. They ran until Gandalf had found the hidden passage to the Valley of Imladris. Fear stood and waited, making sure all of the Company made it through, including the all mighty-and-pompous- Thorin Oakenshield. It was Fili who was last to make his way to the passage and Fear pushed him down behind her with unnecessary force as an Orc blade pierced her chest instead of his back. She groaned like a stubborn child because of the pure fact that her cloak was now ruined, and the gem in her staff glowed a bit brighter when the Orc just so happened to drop dead after seeing a black mist float into his mouth. She hopped into the passage just as horns were blowing. Everyone stared at her with wide eyes and gaping mouths. She blinked a couple times, until she remembered the sword in her chest.

"Oh, right." She huffed out. Fear pulled the roughly made sword out of her body and threw the bloodless weapon on the ground. Then, she inspected the rip in her cloak and let out an exasperated sigh. She really liked her black cloak and now it was ruined! Staff in hand, she walked forward, passing the dumbstruck dwarrows. Nobody dared to ask questions for they were afraid of the answers they would get. They followed her lead until they came to an opening where they could behold the beauty of Rivendell. The dwarves weren't too happy when they realized their setting had elves as its inhabitants. Elrond was very kind to offer the company hospitality, he was about to majestically wisp away with his raggedy best friend, Gandalf, when he let out a startled cry as his gaze set upon Fear.

_What now? Why was everyone constantly staring at her like that? _

When she followed his gaze, she thought perhaps the arrow in her shoulder had something to do with it. She yanked it out and dropped it on the ground, leaving no blood on the arrow and no wound in her shoulder; there was practically no trace it had even hit her besides another tear in the cloth of her cloak.

"Well," she grumbled, "That was awkward."

Indeed, awkward it was. Even more awkward was when Chaos and Pain were taken away to be healed of _their_ wounds. Pain had minor scratches everywhere_, where did they even come from?_ Chaos, on the other hand, had taken a hit from a dagger on her back, thankfully not too deep.

What was _even more_ awkward was standing around a bunch of whining dwarves that complained about the lack of meat, considering Fear actually couldn't remember the last time she had eaten food. Normally, they didn't need to eat to survive, (they did anyways, purely out of habit) but the last time they had consumed anything was back at home. After noticing she was sitting by herself for some time, Thorin took a seat beside Fear on the cold marble bench a good distance away from the fire that was made of burning furniture. He had no idea what he was going to say.

Fear didn't know what to do. She thought about playing with the deadly sins, but decided against it. If Thorin wanted to speak to her, he would have to come up with the courage on his own.

So before Thorin could muster up that courage, an elf walked up to Fear ever so gracefully.

"My Lord Elrond informed me that you may be needing some new attire" His voice was kind as he looked at the rips in her black cloak. Fear nodded, not quite sure what to say. She stood up and grabbed her staff that leaned against the wall and followed behind him, not bothering to look back at Thorin. The elf, Lindir, escorted Fear to a room where he waited for her outside the door. Hanging on a rack she saw dresses of all sorts of varieties. It was clear to see that the elves realized that they did not want to offend Fear by choosing a dress for her, for fear of picking something she would not like. Taking her time eyeing the dresses, she realized that most were bright colors with intricate designs and multiple fabrics. She settled for the plainest one she could find; a simple black lace dress. It had a sweetheart neckline and was long enough to just fall a centimeter above the ground. She pulled it on with ease, a bit disappointed to see her ripped clothes fall to the floor. She sighed when she noticed the strings on her back that were meant to be tied; she tried her best to do so as she struggled to reach behind her. Her hair remained untouched, the silky black curls running down her back. Shoes! She needed shoes! Looking around on the ground, she was glad to find a pair of simple black shoes that were rather comfortable. Grabbing her staff, she all but walked into Lindir when she opened the door, he was obviously wondering what took her so long, but he didn't voice his concern.

"_Gostbaneth_, you are beautiful." Said Lindir.

She smiled, again not quite sure what to say. All this felt so… _humane_. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Lindir escorted her back to the dwarves, where he turned to leave but hesitated before shifting her hair forward and retying the strings on her back.

She decided to ask him a question. Why not?

"Lindir," She began, catching his attention with her velvety smooth voice as her tongue rolled out his name. She felt the eyes of dwarves fall on her but she paid them no attention, "I believe that means _singer._" He nods, and then realizes she can't see him.

"Yes, it does. Do you speak the elven tongue?"

"I must say, very poorly," She said, earning a hefty laugh from Lindir. "But there is something I would like to ask,"

"Ask away," Said Lindir, as he finished with the strings (that evidently took him quite a while) and pulled her hair back. She turned to face him.

"What is the meaning of the name you called me earlier? _Gostbaneth_."

His face fell and his eyes found the ground. "I apologize. I shouldn't have called you by that name,"

"But what does it mean?" She persisted, quite curious now.

Lindir looked anywhere but her eyes and said, "_Terrible beauty_. Although I do not-"

Fear raised a hand to tell him to stop speaking. He thought he had insulted her. She reached for his hands, a smile creeping onto her face as she said, "It is a fitting name. I like it very much."

Lindir broke into a grin before bowing and returning to whatever important duties he was supposedly doing before he was told to help her. Fear made sure to not look anyone in the eye as she returned to take her seat away from the company on the marble bench, so she didn't see the jealousy sprawled on the leaders face. Thorin made his way to her and sat down, hoping he could pick off where they left (even though they hadn't left anywhere!). His back was straight and his chest puffed out. She didn't know what to make of him.

"That dress looks good on you." He said awkwardly.

"Good? It's a beautifully dress-" She stopped short when she realized he just complimented her. She was dressed in elvish attire and Thorin was trying to compliment her. _The_ Thorin Oakenshield, King Under The Mountain, Hater Of All Things Remotely Elvish just said she looked _good _in her elven-made dress. Huh. Who would've thought?

"Thank you." She said in a rather formal tone. With nothing left to say, Thorin scurried away. _What just happened?_ She had no time to collect her thoughts because Pain and Chaos finally decided to show up, all clad in silver and green elven dresses that dragged along the floor. Fear rose from her seat and frowned when she clasped her staff, noticing it no longer shone as bright as it once did. Making her way to her sisters, she noticed something was rather odd. She narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized them.

"You're getting taller!" Said Pain, gawking at her sister and the couple of inches she had grown.

"_I am not!_ You two are getting shorter!" Replied Fear. They dropped the conversation.

The rest of the evening was far more comfortable for Fear in the presence of her sisters. She let them drag her to sit around the still-burning fire and the dwarrows sang songs and smoked pipeweed and drank stolen wine. All that wine had Chaos and Pain dancing merrily in circles together, which was interrupted by Kili and Fili. Together, the two couples danced around without a care in the world and Fear couldn't help but wonder if the height distance between the brothers and her sisters was growing increasingly smaller by the minute.

* * *

_**A/N: Rivendell, yay! On another note, I wonder what's happening to the sisters... *insert obvious foreshadowing here***_

_**Thank you, my Russian friend, I truly mean it when I say that I would still be struggling with chapter one if it wasn't for you! **_


	5. Chapter 5: Wargs Don't Cry

The only two people she truly cared for had drifted into slumber, so Fear strolled around through gardens and admired the scenery of Rivendell. The elves called it The Last Homely House west of the Mountains for a reason. It was because this was in fact the last house they would probably find homely once they set for the Mountains. Ignoring this thought, she looked on with awe at her surroundings, the way the moonlight fell onto bushes and trees, revealing such beauty that soon would be lost in sunlight. She was well aware of what was to come and she was plotting how to avoid it. Funny, when she first arrived here she had planned on doing the exact opposite, to bring more misfortune to the company; but to do that would be to bring misfortune to her sisters and that was not something she was willing to do, not since she saw the looks on their faces the day Kili had died- _almost_ died. Dressed in a new elven-made black cloak (that wasn't as nearly as great as her old one), she looked to the skies. The sun persisited to rise despite Fear's pleas and she decided she should begin to make her way back to the company. While leisurely floating down large and open halls surrounded by white marble pillars, the silence was pierced with a blood-curdling scream. There was no doubt about it, that was Pain. Fear's eyes widened and she swiftly found her way to the source of the noise, the dwarrows most likely on their way as well. Opening the door without any warning, she saw a significantly shorter girl pulling on newly sprouted red facial hair which was long enough to be called a beard.

_Wait, what? Red beard?_

**_Oh! _**

Fear bent over, her hands on her knees, wiping tears from her eyes that insisted on spilling over as she poorly tried to conceal her roaring laughter. The dwarves ran into the room behind Fear with a variety of weapons in hand, only to drop them and stare at the facial hair with gaping mouths, not knowing what to make of it. Slowly, Chaos crept into the room with a similar blonde _beard _hanging down her chin!

Fear couldn't control the bellowing laughter escaping her mouth, and even a few dwarves chuckled along with her, clearly relieved that the situation wasn't as dangerous as they had thought.

"So that's what's going on with you two, you didn't turn human; you're turning into dwarves!" Fear cried out through her giggles.

Albeit, they were still much taller, they resembled dwarrowdams! The laughter was silenced as Kili stepped forward and began braiding Pain's beard, it seemed like such an intimate act that laughing seemed inappropriate. Fear had to get out of there _now_; otherwise she would burst into laughter again. She ran (_floated_) past Chaos and back into the gardens where a grin was still sketched on her face. She knew by the beat red color of Pain's face (_that matched her beard_!) that Fear had crossed the line.

Out of all people, Ori had found Fear sitting by a water fountain about an hour after she had abruptly left.

"Hello, miss," He began, clearly still uncomfortable with her name. She nodded at him, acknowledging his existence. Fear knew very little about dwarvish women, she knew there were quite seldom of them. And that they resembled dwarvish men greatly. _Oh boy_.

"My sisters are dwarves." She blurted out, no longer laughing or smiling. Ori nodded. "They have beards and everything." Her face fell. "But what's going to happen to me?" She asked in a whisper to herself. It surprised her when Ori spoke.

"No matter what, you're still welcome in Erebor when we take it back!" He said, his eyes gleaming with blind faith. A smile sprawled on her face as she thought of Lindir.

"But what if I turn into an Elf? Am I still welcomed?" She teased.

Ori laughed as he said, "Well, I'm sure Thorin wouldn't mind! We all saw how he looked at you last night." She knew he was just teasing her back, but she still sighed. So she didn't make it up in her mind. Thorin did have a crush on her.

"What do I do?" She asked, her face stern and serious.

"I don't think I'm qualified to answer that question," he said honestly, tugging on her arm to pull her back to the company. She let Ori pull her as she floated lazily. When they returned, she saw blonde and red hair in braids (on the head_ and_ face) but she didn't laugh. She didn't even smile. Instead, she pulled them into a tight embrace, then pulled away and said, "So, this is the life for you, is it? Well, I hope those brothers make you happy." In this moment, Fear felt more like a mother than a sister. She also felt sad, _no_, more like empty. Although, she wasn't quite sure why.

She nodded to Kili and Fili, approving their courtship or whatever the heck this was supposed to be. She just hoped she wouldn't have to be involved with any silly traditions. "Extend the line of Durin, make lots of babies!" She cried out blatantly as the princes blushed a shade of red quite similar to Pain's beard. Thorin finally decided to speak up, but only to let them know that it was time to leave and that Gandalf would join them sooner or later. He pulled them away before Fear had the chance to say goodbye to her sweet Lindir.

Fear had hoped that reaching the Misty Mountains would be quick. She was wrong. During the long days between Rivendell and the mountains of Goblin Town, she had to watch an unbearable poison of the human mind otherwise known as _love_. She had always seen these dwarves as nothing more than children. So tiny and adorable with their stout bodies; so short and thick, clad in multiple layers of unnecessary clothing. So, to see someone that's like a joke to you constantly sneak off with your sister for a good few hours and then come back red-faced and sweaty was not fun. It was actually kind of gross. Chaos and Fili were constantly… _intimate._ Can't a girl grab some firewood without walking in on a dwarf climbing her sister's body like a tree? Kili and Pain were even worse. They didn't keep sneaking off for a not-so-quick quickie, but instead they were always in each other's arms. Always holding each other as if one might turn their back the other would disappear forever.

The dwarrows were downright comical to look at when they tried to be fierce, scary, intimidating, or even when they were angry. Thorin and more often Dwalin made her giggle at the ridiculous contrast between their adorable body size and fierce scowls; _how does anyone take these guys seriously?_

As they _finally_ reached the misty mountains, Fear decided to put her plan to action. It didn't take long to win over Thorin's judgment, all she had to do was get close and personal and let the power of lust do its job. She directed them away from the soon-to-be thunder battle and the false caves and goblin porches, and into hidden tunnels at the base of the mountain. Of course, from inside the tunnel they could hear the smashing and rumbling of the stone giants, which earned her many praises and thanks for finding this sudden tunnel that according to Thorin apparently no one had ever known about, ever.

As the single tunnel began branching out with dark holes that lead to foul-smelling caves and long noisy halls, she couldn't help but wonder if Sméagol had followed the same tunnels once upon a time. Evidently, the only light anyone could see was the glowing red gem on Fear's staff, which left an eerie glow in the walls of the tunnel. To Fear's dissatisfaction, Chaos and Pain had abandoned their staffs long ago. Looking forward, everyone's hands were trailing along the rigid stone walls when their eyes caught something; a distant grey light. Getting closer, they stumbled across Gandalf (_yay!_) who led the rest of the way.

"Thank you for keeping them away from the troublesome Goblins. I was afraid that they would move onto the mountains before I had a chance to reach them." Gandalf whispered to her.

"You need not thank me. You had much more pressing issues on your hands." Fear said, a smirk sketched onto her face as she thought about Lady Galadriel. The smirk was wiped off when four goblins jumped out of a small hole in the wall. It all happened so quickly that nobody even noticed what was going on until it already happened. The goblins threw something in their directions, probably knives, and all four had dropped dead. One from an arrow between the eyes, courtesy of Kili. One that had his head severed off by an axe, courtesy of Dwalin. Another with an elvish blade pierced through his chest, thanks to Thorin and the last dropped dead because Fear thought he was creepy looking. The action caused her staff to glow a bit brighter, illuminating the caves ever more eerily. Looking back, there was a moment where she realized that the hobbit was no longer with them, but she made no attempt at searching for him. When they finally got out and reached a dimming sunlight, Bilbo slipped up silently behind them and pretended he never left. Nobody but Fear seemed to notice. _Caught by nasty goblins? I think not!_ _He most likely caught up with his old friend Gollum. _Bilbo only proved her right by constantly fingering something in his pocket, no doubt the ring.

Thorin let out a cry- well, it was more like a _grunt_, really, and he pointed to Fear with a horrified expression.

"What now?" She growled, clearly annoyed with the look that everyone was giving her.

"Does that not hurt, sister?" asked Pain, stifling her laughter as she half hid behind Chaos.

"Does what hurt?" She asked, looking down to check if there was something sticking in her chest or shoulder like it had before with the sword and arrow. There was nothing that she could see. She lifted her head to see everyone wincing at her movements. The blonde walked over wearily, as if Fear was a ticking time bomb. Chaos stood in front of Fear and smiled mischievously. Seeing the confusion on Fear's face, Chaos reached for the dagger that had been plunged into Fear's neck.

"_Oh._"

Once again, no scars, no blood.

Clearing his throat, Thorin motioned that they should move on and for once, Fear agreed with him.

"Our presence in the mountain will not go unnoticed." She said. After a moment her eyes flickered to the dagger on the ground and she added, "And neither will the absence of four of the Goblin King's scouts."

Were they actually scouts for the Goblin King? Who knows? They didn't have time to go back and ask politely because a cry was heard from somewhere in the not-so-distance. A Warg cry is hard to describe. To most, it leaves a spine-twisting, gut-clenching, bone-shattering feeling. Needless to say, it's not pleasant. Especially if you've been caught off guard. Fear had managed to escort the company out of the mountain safely but she was a fool if she thought they would just fly into the sunset perched atop of talking eagles. They had no choice but to run for the cliff.

"Mithrandir?" Fear asked, claiming the attention of the breathless wizard. "Now would be a good time to call someone for help. Perhaps someone who can fly." She said. By the look on his face, he understood what she had meant. Just as Gandalf sent a butterfly away, Fear climbed up a tree with ease and looked over the thin forest to see Orcs and Wargs quite the distance away. She thought it was strange that the tag team hadn't caught their scent yet. In fact, if she didn't know better she'd have said the Wargs looked scared. _But that's just it, isn't it? They are scared!_

She hopped down, landing ever so gracefully on her feet and told Gandalf of the news.

"Well, I'm not surprised. Smaug won't recognize the scent of hobbits; I guess your scent has a similar effect on the Wargs." He said while wearing a smug look out from under his ridiculously large hat.

"No, it's not that." Fear said, pacing back and forth, "It's more like they recognized my scent perfectly. It's as if they don't want to follow it." She said, trying to piece together the puzzle.

"Almost-" Gandalf said, pulling her out of her thoughts, "-as if they feared your scent."

_Oh. Well, that makes sense. _You know, with her being Fear and all. She thought back to the Wargs by the Troll Hoard and wondered why they hadn't been afraid, when she realized that those Wargs weren't tracing her scent. They had only been scouting for something suspicious.

So the Wargs ran the other way and the Orcs had no idea, which meant that Thorin went another day without the knowledge of Azog and how he hasn't, in fact, succumbed to his wounds. It seemed that Bilbo's speech about home and his attempts at saving Thorin from Azog was not needed because Bagginshield lived on anyways. After hearing a vicious rumor from Fear that hobbits may or may not fall into a long hibernation-like state when too cold, Thorin placed his fur coat around a very confused Bilbo when the eagles came to take them away.

* * *

**_A/N: What fourth wall? :) _**

**_I felt the need to throw in a bit of Thilbo, but the real question is; will it last? For Fear's sake, let's hope so. _**

**_Nope. No nasty goblins today! I don't want to write about sexual tension between the Goblin King and Fear, no thank you!_**

**_I'm sorry my dear Russian friend, I shouldn't have taken so long on this chapter! _**


	6. Chapter 6: Wargs Smell Fear

So close. They had been so close to hopping onto the eagles and flying away.

But of course, taking the tunnel under the mountain had taken more time than they could have hoped for and the sun had undeniably set. Without the sun to protect them, the goblins were on their way. And too many of them for anyone's liking. Unfortunately, the damned eagles flew away into the night considering that they were _not _nocturnal birds, and Gandalf was nowhere to be seen. The company stood on the edge of the cliff, completely surrounded by goblins. Of course, the dwarves mentality is to never go down without a fight.

So axes hacked and swords sliced and arrows pierced every inch of goblin they could find but it wasn't long until they were overpowered and the weapons stripped. Pain and Chaos did some damage with a few daggers and even Bilbo used his sword, _if_ you could call it that. The only one who stood idly by and did nothing was Fear. Their grubby hands tried to take her staff, but it burned their skin at the touch and the faint smell of goblin flesh was in the air, and so Fear's staff just happened to intentionally evaporate into nothingness. The goblins didn't know what to make of her for a moment, until they bound her hands in iron shackles; all the while she had a ghostly bemused smile pressed on her lips, one that made the goblins rather weary and hesitant around her. With spears and swords prodding every direction, the company was led back into the mountain. _Oh well, the tunnel was a good idea at the time._

Looking around, she scrutinized every inch of the goblins. They all seemed incredibly similar at the first glance and that would make anyone wonder how they told each other apart. But as she studied them closely, she noticed that they all had distinct features making them all incredibly hideous in their own way. If there was ever a time to cause mischief, it was now. For some miraculous reason the goblin-chauffeurs kept stumbling over their own two feet, and a few of them accidentally poked their own eyes with their spears. Fear wondered if there were any female goblins, and then shuddered at the thought. _Maybe some of them are female, I shouldn't judge. _

The thought of goblins having at each other was repulsing enough to make the most respectable of dwarves hurl. What about Orcs? She shuddered again.

Through the rickety bridges and stone-foul-smelling halls there was an intense heat and they passed a torture machine on their way up, the bone breaker, made of iron and to be honest, rather… kinky-looking. Fear wondered if the Goblin King had a set of manacles stashed somewhere, and she all but hurled at that thought. Finally, after what seemed like hours, they were escorted to the Goblin King, where he sat perched on his mighty throne.

Fear stood in front of her dwarves like a protective mother, her tall figure sticking out like an elf among dwarrows. If she was being honest, she was only protecting two of those dwarrows. The Goblin King stepped down, most literally squishing the life out of a few goblins. He launched into his great speech, all the while Fear was thinking of how to escape, her face scrunched up, deep in thought. Even with her death-giving power, she wouldn't be able to take out these many goblins and who knows how it would affect the plot later on. This had to happen, and regardless of whom, someone had to kill the Goblin King. Speaking of him, Fear noticed he had stopped speaking now and was staring intently at her.

Raising her eyebrows, she said, "Can I help you?"

"_I said_, what is a lady like you doing with the company of dwarves?"

Thinking fast, her mind wandered to the kinky torture machine she had seen earlier.

"They've brought a peace-offering." She replied, looking straight into his blood-shot eyes.

The Goblin King looked pleased. What was his name? She couldn't keep calling him _Goblin King_ forever.

"Peace offering?" he repeated, his eyes now full of lust as he took in her sight.

"They offer you… _me_. In exchange for safe passage through the mountains."

She looked to the dwarves and regretted the action immediately. They held horrified expressions on their faces, as if she betrayed them. Looking back at the pleased Great Goblin, she took in his sight for the first time. There was bulging fat sagging from everywhere and crusted along his mouth was something that would make even Pestilence himself throw up a bit. Thin strips of white hair were matted to his head under a strange crown. _Attractive_.

"And what is it that you can offer me?" The Goblin King asked, as if he already knew the answer. Turning her body slightly, she found Thorin's death glare set on her. She had his attention, that much was good. She attempted to make hand gestures, but the binds held her back.

"Remove those infernal chains!" The King demanded.

"But your malevolence," a horrid voice shrieked, "She will escape!"

"At the centre of my kingdom? Hardly."

Her bonds were free and she walked forward slowly.

"I can offer you," she began, drawing out her words as she stepped over the pile of weapons, kicking them towards the dwarves silently, "anything," she continued, stepping closer to him, holding his gaze, "you desire."

Finally, Thorin caught on. Unfortunately, Fear had the attention of the Goblin King, but not the attention of all of his goblins. So when Thorin unsheathed his sword, he didn't do it silently. That's not how dwarves are raised to fight; they make sure to let all of Middle Earth know when they head into battle.

Before a gangly goblin that looked like his nose was smashed backwards into his skull could cry out and warn his King, his body hit the ground, and his unattached head rolled right off his neck. _Thank you, Orcrist!_

Unfortunately, the head rolled until it hit the back of Goblin King's pudgy legs. Full on battle cries were heard and the Goblin King finally realized what was happening around him. He looked to Fear with confusion as she flashed him a smile and her staff reappeared in her hand which she used to poke his eye, causing him to stumble back and cry out orders to kill them all. She then ran off and tried her best to drop as many goblins that were posing as threats, but there were too many. After all that bad fortune, some good had finally struck when Gandalf arrived and did his blinding white light act. Taking up arms, they fought against the disorientated goblins and tumbled and swayed over rickety bridges as Fear followed, floating absent-mindedly behind them. She was glad to be leaving behind the Mountains, and more importantly, the Goblin King. Looking around, she hardly had to do anything because the dwarrows had it under control. They no longer looked comical, and Fear realized that it was wrong to say that they were like a joke to her. They are warriors, and in midst of the fight a thought struck her.

Just then the Goblin King popped up, quite literally out of nowhere. Gandalf, not having any of his nonsense today, sliced him with precision as the frighteningly unstable bridge gave away.

Plummeting downwards, she couldn't help but think about how everyone in the company must be older than her. Well, she couldn't remember how old she was. She was sixteen when she had been turned, but how many years had passed since then, ten? Twenty? Perhaps more, perhaps less. It was frustrating that she couldn't remember something so simple and yet she knew every unnecessary detail from Tolkien's novel. Chaos and Pain hadn't aged all those years, but one glance over at them now and she could clearly see that they had aged in their eyes in the short period of time that they had been dwarves. Speaking of their eyes, they were filled with terror._ I wonder why, it couldn't possibly be because we're plummeting downwards at a heart-stopping speed. _As everything landed abrasively, Fear plopped onto the pile seconds later with a soft thud. She hopped off just in time because seconds later the Goblin King and all his fat landed on top of the company and his impact was far from a soft thud.

It was Kili who noticed the army of Goblins on their way.

It was Gandalf who led them out of the Mountains.

It was Fear who noticed that once again, Bilbo was missing. _Did he sneak off to have a tea party with Gollum? What the hell was that hobbit doing now?_

When they reached outside, the sun had just begun to rise. They must have been inside there for quite some time. There was _no time_ to worry _about_ time because everyone had finally noticed their burglar was missing. Pain and Chaos shot Fear a knowing, yet worried glance as they panted for breath.

So Thorin Grumpyshield babbled on about how Bilbo had the chance to go home, and he took it. _You know Thorin; I read somewhere that hostility is really just sublimated sexual attraction. _

And right on cue, Bilbo jumped out behind a tree and launched into his speech that had Thorin silently swooning. The sexual tension was broken by the return of Wargs, now all clad in a strange armor that covered their snouts. _That's clever_. Now without being able to smell Fear, the Wargs were no longer afraid.

"Huh," She huffed out aloud, "They _literally_ smell Fear."

And with that, everyone ran for the cliffs once again. Serious déjà vu.

As much as she didn't want to, she climbed up the last tree and waited. Instead of fighting off the enemy, which she was perfectly capable of doing, she sat perched on her branch and held onto her staff to which Ori and Dori dangled from. For such short little things, they were incredibly heavy.

She didn't interfere when Thorin stood, his hair swaying majestically in the wind.

She didn't interfere when he wielded his branch of Oak as a shield and stalked off towards Azog.

She didn't interfere when Bilbo stood, sword slightly shaking in hand, and charged after the Orc that was about to behead his unconscious friend.

She didn't interfere when other dwarves hoisted themselves up to the aid of the hobbit. She could have easily lifted the two dwarves to safety, but she didn't. And neither did Gandalf. Even Pain and Chaos were contributing to the fight under close watch from the Durin brothers. But Fear? She sat in the tree until flapping wings could be heard close by. Then, _oops_, Ori and Dori fell, only to be caught by the eagles. What kind of giant birds are afraid of the night? Couldn't they have sent some giant owl friends or something? So the not-so-night birds swooped them up one by one and flew them away into the distance, while others picked up Wargs and Orcs and dropped them off the cliff. She thought it was strange how none of the eagles went near Azog and his albino Warg.

* * *

_**A/N: Ahahaha, you thought they escaped the Orcs and Goblins last chapter, didn't you? Well, to be fair, so did Fear. I'm sorry, my dear Russian friend, you of all people know that school is right around the corner and I have been seeping with anxiousness for a while, which means that the next few chapters will most likely be even more subdued than usual. GAAAH, I'd much rather face the Goblin King and his kinky torture machines than face high school for another year. **_


	7. Chapter 7: A Pint Of Jo

"Oh, look!" Exclaimed Fili, pointing upwards to pale white berries above, dangling from trees. His face stretched into a grin as he kissed Chaos and said, "Mistletoe." The small peck of a kiss quickly deepened into something more passionate, and the two slunk deeper into the woods for privacy.

Rolling her eyes, Fear turned to Bilbo. Everyone had decided to set camp at the base of the Carrock, where the eagles had so kindly decided to drop them off. They told stories once the sun had set in front of a fire that was currently roasting some sort of animal.

Suddenly, Fear found herself in a state of craving.

She wanted a cup of coffee - badly. It was unlikely that she would be able to find coffee beans here, and regardless it takes weeks to process. She found herself brooding from the lack of caffeine, and not even Ori could cheer her up. She decided to speak up to distract herself.

"Mistletoe is important to many. Do you know why people kiss under it?" asked Fear. Bilbo shook his head, confirming her suspicions. "Master Baggins, where we come from-" she noticed many ears pipe up, no doubt all eager to hear more about the strange unknown lands "-we have an equivalent of what you call the Valar. We call them _Gods_." She stood and moved closer to the campfire so that she undeniably had everyone's attention.

"It's a Norse tale. Baldr, the son of Odin, was the most beloved by the other Gods. Unlike Gods in other pantheons, not all of the Norse gods were immortal. They catalogued everything that could have possibly caused Baldr harm, from weapons to diseases to creatures. With the list in hand, Baldr's mother, Frigg, set out to enforce oaths from everything in the nine worlds not to harm him. This wasn't difficult because he was so universally loved. After a few rounds of drinks and toasts, the Gods decided to test Baldr's invulnerability. Stones, arrows and flame were all hurled at him." She stopped speaking briefly because of a snort she heard coming from Dwalin's direction.

"Well, _obviously_ they were setting themselves up for trouble." He said, slightly uncomfortable at the harsh gazes set is way for interrupting the story.

Her lips twitched upwards as she said, "_Nothing_ harmed him." Fear didn't miss Dwalin's deflated expression. "But there was one God who wasn't so enamored of Baldr." She continued on, "The God of Mischief, Loki." The look of respect and love in Fear's eyes was unquestionable, it was clear to see that she admired the figure she was now speaking of, "Loki discovered that Frigg had forgotten to ask Mistletoe to take the oath; a tiny, seemingly harmless plant, disregarded as nothing; and yet, completely overlooked. Loki fastened a dart out of Mistletoe and sought out Baldr's blind brother, Hod. Loki told Hod he would help him take aim and handed him the dart to throw. _It killed Baldr_." The faces of the dwarves were a mixture of shock and genuine sadness.

With her limbs still entwined with Kili, Pain used her sweet and innocent voice, adding, "Frigg was heartbroken. She decreed that mistletoe would never again be used as a weapon and that she would place a kiss on anyone who passed under it." This seemed to cheer up the company slightly, until…

"So now we hang mistletoe underneath our doors during the holidays, so that we _never_ overlook it again." Fear concluded, her tone harsher than she had intended. Closing her eyes briefly, her memories floated to her beloved Loki. The last she had seen him was for just a moment, mere seconds, before he had brought them here. Those mere seconds replayed slowly, over and over again in her mind and every single time she saw something in him that she felt she had never seen before. His sleek black hair was darker than night. His green and gold armor rested beautifully against his well-built muscles, complimenting his fair skin. His golden helm rested on his head and his powerful staff in hand. His face was serious, his eyes hard until they locked with hers. For the briefest of moments there was a flicker of something and his lips curved into a mischievous grin. Oh, how she longed to see that sly grin once more!

"This… Loki. You love him?" Someone whispered, tearing her attention away as the memory quickly faded. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the speaker. It was no other than Thorin. She was silent, but he knew everything he needed to know from what her eyes said. It was the same look his sister, Dis, wore upon her face years ago. Looking heartbroken, Thorin slumped away into the trees, claiming the need for more firewood. He had healed well, courtesy of Gandalf, and praised Bilbo for his actions. It seemed that project Bagginshield was still under construction.

"_Sigyn_, tell me more about these… Gods." Bilbo said, excitement gleaming in his eyes. For a moment, Fear was about to speak on when something registered in her mind.

"What did you just say?" asked Fear, her brow scrunched up in concentration.

"I want to learn more about your Gods!" he repeated with an equal amount of passion.

"No. What did you call me?" she asked. Pausing for a moment, Bilbo rethought the words that had left his mouth.

"Sigyn?" He repeated, as if the word was foreign to his tongue.

She nodded.

"Well, that's odd! I'm not even sure what it means!" He said. His exaggerated facial expressions were like a warning bell. His voice became much louder, and he began prodding the ring in his pocket. Through his actions, Fear found him suspicious, but she chose not to press the matter. Despite her protests, the name caught on quite quickly through the company. They ate their rabbit and mutton and fooled around for a bit before drifting into dreamless slumber. They were thankful that Fear could keep watch all night. Although, if there was any danger she wouldn't have noticed it for she spent her nights staring at the skies and wondering if someone familiar was watching over her. The sun rose, bringing with her vibrant colors of pink and orange that quickly faded to a clear blue and the company began to stir. Gandalf was vaguely explaining the condition of the guest they would soon meet; The Bear Man. Bilbo was terrified, to say the least. The journey to The Bear Man's house was boring. They spent the majority of it hiding in the shade of trees and away from the heat. They noticed green patches of flowers beginning to spring up and the unnerving buzz of bees hung in the air. As they reached the end of the bee pastures, they came to a belt of tall and ancient looking oak trees. Gandalf informed that they would arrive in pairs every few minutes, after they heard him whistle. Fear and Bilbo followed Gandalf past an old, creaky wooden gate and horses trotted away to tell their master of the trespassers. They strolled into a courtyard and there he was, the great bear of a man, Beorn.

He had a thick black beard and unkempt black hair, and wore only a brown wool tunic that fell to his knees, leaving his extremely muscular hairy arms and legs exposed. His voice was loud and booming as he laughed and dismissed his horses. At first, his speech was hostile and accusing, but after Gandalf mentioned Radaghast, Fear noticed that Beorn's shoulders relaxed and he seemed to trust the grey wizard. Beorn ushered them into a wide hall with a fireplace in the middle. It was odd that in such heat, the inside of the house was quite cold and the fire had a comforting feeling. At the end of the hall there was a small door that led them to a wide, open porch with a great view of Beorn's garden. Gandalf launched into his story and to Beorn's annoyance at the interruption, he called for the dwarves now and then when he paused his tale; the tale of which he exaggerated greatly. Beorn was like a hermit, he lived in solitude as a reserved man and it was clear to see that he did not invited people into his home very often with the exception of his animals. Gandalf was smug with satisfaction; for he had managed to intrigue Beorn is his story so much that he was willing to let eighteen complete strangers into his abode. Beorn praised the story so much that, even though he had no proof as to whether or not the events actually occurred, he offered them food and shelter for several days, and they were very thankful. Fear sat at the end of the table across from Beorn, and she felt his gaze fall upon her numerous times. Out of curiosity he asked Gandalf about her, and the wizard merely told him that she was a member of the company.

A thought struck Fear and her eyes widened in realization.

"Beorn! There isn't a chance that you have coffee beans, is there?"

The great bear of a man seemed to be surprised at her eagerness, but he recovered quickly and spoke something to one of the animals that were walking around on two feet. A few agonizingly long minutes later, a small cup of black coffee was placed in front of her.

Fear looked at the intelligent sheep that placed the cup in front of her, and gave the cup back. "I'd like a large pint of coffee, please. With milk and sugar as well." The sheep seemed to understand her words and came back with a much larger mug of coffee, something the dwarves would normally drink ale out of. The hot liquid slithered down her throat and she savored the sweet taste. She cried out loud, earning strange looks thrown her way as the dwarves stuffed their faces. Fear downed her pint and didn't dare ask for more, she could already feel the adrenaline pulsating through her veins.

Fear was enjoying herself, here at Beorn's place. She would make most of what she could.

* * *

**_A/N: I feel like Fear is a coffee person. _**

**_My Russian friend, school has started and I've officially begun to sulk in my room. I've also been putting off my homework (Yes, I already have homework) and rewatching lotr because I can and my French teacher can kiss my derriere! _**

**_On a side note, there might be a little something between Beorn and Fear. I think Beorn is a lot like this creepy uncle that I have. _**

**_Also, Sigyn is the name of Loki's wife. Don't get any ideas, I only wanted to incorporate some more lore. _**

**_Speaking of lore, thank you Teen Wolf for practically handing me the mistletoe scene. Seriously, that was the cherry on top. Which means I should probably say I don't own Teen Wolf. Because I don't. _**

**_I'll update next time I don't feel like doing my French homework (that's more often than not)_**


	8. Chapter 8: Highway To Helheim

Some are afraid of giant spiders. Others, losing their loved ones. Regardless of what, everyone has a fear. Everyone, no exceptions.

Nothing good ever comes out of mortality, take it from Fear. She had seen the most honorable of Gods exiled and turned to drunken scoundrels.

Pride, lust, sloth, gluttony, greed, envy and wrath are all weaved into even the most humble of mortals. All that is needed to turn that sweet fragile old woman from across the street into a ruthless murderer is a golden coin.

It was known that dwarves went almost unaffected by the presence of the one ring. Unlike the easily corrupted hearts of men, the ring was not an object of lust for dwarves. In its place was gold. But Fear had almost forgotten, Chaos and Pain were once human.

* * *

Bilbo was absolutely adorable. He was a fragile cup of tea amongst pints of ales. It would be a shame if someone were to take advantage of him. Beorn was kind to offer such hospitality to the company but even he seemed oblivious to Bilbo's state of distress. It was only natural that Chaos and Pain were spending so much time with him, right? Mortality had changed them greatly, though Fear bit her tongue and said nothing against them. They constantly spoke in hushed whispers and they looked tired. However, no one felt as tired as Bilbo looked. His hallow eyes begged for slumber despite him getting the most sleep out of all. The ring-bearer was growing ill, he was beginning to look worn out, stretched, and above all he looked as if he was fading. After a night at the great bear man's house, Beorn offered the company a surplus of food and various ponies to ride until the edge of Mirkwood. Not wanting to be a burden, Fear rode with Gandalf on the only horse Beorn was willing to send. He gave them advice and stressed greatly on not wandering off the path. It was at Beorn's grave words that the company had sobered up to. They now realized that at the end of their journey was a dragon, and that things were about to get much more dangerous than they had ever imagined. After a last meal everyone mounted the steeds that he was lending to them and after bidding farewells they rode off at a good pace. That first night, most of them slept uneasily with dreams in which there came the howl of hunting wargs and the cries of goblins. It took five days to reach Mirkwood. Five miserable days that were agonizingly boring and made Fear want to stab her eyes out. During the five long days she noticed that Chaos and Pain grew distant from everyone. It could be seen on Kili's and Fili's faces that they were worried, but had decided to say nothing. Chaos and Pain had been avoiding the entire company save for Master Baggins. They were sure to keep him in their line of view at all times.

More often than them, Thorin kept popping into her thoughts. It was useless denying it anymore; Thorin had grown a place in her heart. She was pleased to know that she was the cause of his speechless sulking, it was kind of cute. _Loki can go to Helheim. I've found myself a dwarf. _

So on the fifth and final evening before Mirkwood, instead of perching silently atop a boulder by herself, she wandered towards the campfire and plopped herself next to a very surprised dwarf king. They shared one very long knowing glance, in it their eyes screaming everything their lips wouldn't dare, and they spent the rest of the night without speaking words, just Fear's head resting on Thorin's shoulder, hand in hand, gazing into the fire until the other fell asleep. It's harmless gesture to most, but the company understood the meaning behind the action. Their leader had fallen in love with some who did, in fact, reciprocate his feelings.

That night was short and they began riding the next day before dawn. As soon as it was light they could see the forest scowling down at them from a distance. The animals around the area grew scarce with ever step they took up the slope. By the afternoon they had reached Mirkwood. Reluctantly, the ponies had been sent back to their original owner when the company began to grumble over Gandalf's decision to leave. The steeds trotted away, all too happy to put the sight of Mirkwood to their rears. After far too many goodbyes, Gandalf followed in their footsteps.

In single file, they walked under an arch and onto an eerie path that lead to a gloomy tunnel of trees. Black squirrels could be seen scurrying about every now and then, all far too invasive-looking for anyone's liking. But by far, the worst was the surplus of cobwebs. Dark and dense with thick threads, thank goodness there was none blocking the pathway. All that could be seen was darkness. All that could be felt, the cold stiff air. Not even a single gust of wind blew through the thick forestry. The nights were especially hard on Bilbo, the poor hobbit couldn't differentiate between when his eyelids were open or closed. Regardless, Thorin felt at slight comfort when he fell asleep in the arms of Fear. Lighting fires was hopeless for it brought hundreds upon hundreds of insect eyes all round them and the creatures, whatever they were, were careful to show nothing more of their appearance in the flickers of the flames. When they had finally reached the path blocked with running water, a fast and strong current of dark black, the company was desperately thirsty but they didn't dare drink from its springs. Collecting what little wits they had left, the dwarves managed to pull the boat over and get everyone across, save for Bombur who had fallen in during a conundrum over a deer that hadn't even been shot.

Between his bobbing bodice in the black water and the sudden panic of the company, Fear struggled to contain a grin. She had to battle stifling laughter when Bombur was pulled out, soaked in beard and all, and snoring ungracefully with a smile on his fat face.

In the days to come they heard the eerie and strange sound of elvish singing and laughter which unnerved the company and caused them to hurry on. Just when the food supply ran out Bombur had awakened and was completely distressed at their predicament. He obviously had some very happy dreams.

_Me too, Bombur. Me too. _

Through the bickering and the whining Balin had caught everyone's attention with word of a twinkling light in the distance.

_Oh no. _

Next ensued creeping and crawling cautiously, which followed by lightless dark. Then, after blundering frantically, lights could be seen again and they crept towards it until the lights went out once more, and then curses and shouts of all sorts could be heard. This happened many times. It was exhausting to watch and it looked rather pathetic. The need for sustenance was making them so incredibly desperate that Fear cringed while she watched over them.

And then the spiders came. And this was not something she could stand idly by and watch. Lately Thorin had been pressed upon her mind and that caused her staff to grow dimly, her powers far too weak to take on the spiders. As much as it hurt her pride and ego, she had to let herself be taken by them. Dark beady eyes, thin long hairy legs and pincers bigger Bilbo himself could be seen in the chaos.

_Ugh. Why giant spiders? _

So there she was, tied up in sticky thread from neck down, her eyes squeezed shut in disgust.

Muffled voices forced her to open her eyes when she saw Thorin, his eyes soft and caring gazing at her, before he cringed in pain. He had been bitten and injected with venom and she was tied up, absolutely useless.

She felt blood pumping through her veins. She felt a heartbeat pounding against her chest and although she couldn't see it, she knew the light on her staff had gone out. For a brief moment she had the chance to feel human until it was interrupted by a piercing pain through her shoulder. She _felt_ the fangs. She _felt_ the venom attacking and invading her bloodstream. It was a paralyzing pain, all her muscles locked and she internally screamed in agony.

The searing pain was unbearable, and soon she passed unconscious.

* * *

Through darkness it was like a stage light had been turned on. A pale figure, blurry at first, crept dangerously close to you. His dark hair and fierce eyes were all too familiar and as your eyes focused, you slapped a name to his face. "Loki."

He smiled and tilted his head, as if you were just a child who had spoken their first words. "It's a shame, Fear. I made a bet that you would've remained intact until the end. I really thought you would've made it. I guess I was wrong." This felt like a slap in the face and bile rose in your throat. "So, believe it if you will, _you are still alive_." He took a step back and examined your reaction. You tried your best to wipe your face of any expression. You were standing upright but your arms and legs were restrained by what felt like cold chains or shackles. He continued on, "And, believe it if you will, you are not yet mortal." You couldn't stop your eyebrow from rising "Well, not completely, anyways." He looked at you expectantly, but when you refused to reply he sighed and continued speaking.

"Stubborn as the dwarf you fell for. Anyways, listen carefully. Chaos and Pain are dying. So is your boyfriend-" Did you detect a hint of jealousy? "-and so you have a decision to make; well, Death is giving you an option. He's not happy with you, you know. He told me to tell you this; 'My powers are the strongest of the four horsemen, and with that power you can choose to save your dwarf king and be cursed with a mortal life, or save both your sisters and return to them their immortality while you perish in Hel.' If you ask me-" You gave him a stern glare that was clear enough to let him know that he was not being asked "- the choice is obvious. Nothing is worse than a mortal life."

You snorted. Just a day earlier and you would've agreed with him. If there was any good to come out of mortality, it was love. And that was not something you would ever get in Helhiem or had ever gotten as an immortal.

You say, "I choose him," your voice loud and confident as a wave of shock falls on his face.

"You can't be serious?" You nod your head. "You're making a rash mistake. I will give you time, you needn't decide now. With your staff you will be able to save the ones you love, don't waste your chance."

And with a snap of his fingers your eyes flew open to see Bilbo cutting you free from the spider's thread.

* * *

_**A/N: Who's excited for Desolation of Smaug in December? It comes out just a week or so before my birthday!**_

_**Okay, so I lied. Sorry my dear Russian friend, nothing happened between Fear and Beorn. And yes, I decided that Thorin deserves to be loved, no matter how short the amount of time he has with his beloved is.**_

_**Also, I do my best writing after midnight, around two in the morning, and with school going on I don't get the chance to do that because I also do my homework (believe it or not) and my book collection is beginning to pile up, along with all the T.V. shows I'm dying to watch. Oh and did I mention homework because even though I don't do it, it still niggles at the back of my mind and stresses me out, along with not studying. Take it from me, procrastinating is a stressful and anxiety ridden business.**_

_**I have the next bit planned out so give me a few hours of sleep and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.**_


	9. Chapter 9: A Dinner Date With A Dolt

Giant spider bites are not fun. Think of bee stings or mosquito bites, how the skin swells slightly and the skin is irritated and itchy. Yeah, well giant spiders make them look like a cloud of honey. Venom is used to paralyze prey to make the predators job that much easier, but these spiders had lethal venom. It left a cold ice burn as it flowed through her veins and she felt incredibly weak. Landing on the grass on two wobbly feet, she collapsed and had to be carried. Through the spinning forest and the darkness all she could make out of her rescuer was that he was far shorter than she was. Forcing herself to stay awake, she focused on the figure's face and tried her best to get a grip on reality. It was useless, his blurred face refused to come into focus but she knew who it was.

"Thorin," She tried to say, but it came out like a pain ridden cry.

_Wow, mortality sort of sucks_.

Every muscle tightened and her eyes were growing teary from the pain. She realized that they had stopped moving just as her eyelids drooped heavily and refused to reopen.

When she did open her eyes, her face was pressed against the cold stone floor and she was drooling. Something, most likely a flaming torch, lit up her surroundings but she didn't have the strength to turn her head to survey her setting. Instead she stared through iron bars and at a stone wall that the distant torch casted an iridescent glow upon. The word 'medieval' came to mind. Her stomach growled so loudly that she was afraid someone would've heard it and she felt so incredibly hungry. It was as if someone's arm was inside her, and a hand was clawing away at her organs, reaching for energy or nutrients that she didn't have. She heard scuffling and she froze in terror, afraid that someone had truly heard her stomach growl. A sleepless malice stirred down the halls. If only she could turn her head to see what was going on. Instead, she hopelessly listened to the soft yet menacing footsteps that approached.

_Wood-elves. _

There were three of them, although she could not see their faces. One stepped inside the cell and lifted her gently. These elves were supposed to be kind and she was grateful that they were gentle. She kept her eyes open just a crack to catch a glance of her carrier and she saw a wisp of silky yellow hair and pale skin. She waited, the clawing feeling inside of her growing with every footstep. A door was opened and she was taken inside and placed upon a bed, but she didn't dare move a muscle. Listening intently, Fear waited until the footsteps had all vanished into the distant, and then she shot straight up and off the bed. Surveying her surroundings, there were no windows in this cavepalace, instead there was a surplus of torches hanging on the walls. The bed was small but comfortable and rays of light from the flames fell onto it. There was a dresser and racks of clothing, as well as a slightly opened door that led to a bath. Her head whirred and she fell to her knees against a now dark hardwood floor. She stayed on the ground for who knows how long, her elbows resting on her thighs, her head held in her hands.

Someone walked through the door without knocking, then said something hastily in Sindarin. It seemed as if the voice expected a reply in return, but when none came the intruder walked over to the dresser where they placed a tray for the time being. Fear stayed still and only wished for the intruder to leave her alone. Instead, she felt warm hands pull her own away from her face, then a finger lifted her chin up and forced her to face the intruder and into his piercing blue gaze. His hair was blonde and skin fair, like most Silvan Elves. His jaw was square and muscular but his eyes countered with concern.

"Why do you sit on the cold, hard floor?" He asked, already lifting her up gently by the arms and urging her towards the bed. He turned his back for a moment to retrieve the tray but when he turned around she fell to her knees again, weak from lack of sustenance. Forgetting the tray, he pulled her up in his arms and sat her on the bed, noticing the dark grey bags under her hollow eyes. "Not a dwarf…" he muttered to himself, "So what are you? Too beautiful for the mortal race of men, and yet, not immortal as the elves." Quickly, he retrieved the tray which revealed to have food. Fear's eyes darted to the large steaming bowl just as her stomach let out a howl of hunger. He smiled to himself and spoon fed her, which slightly hurt her ego although as the warmth flooded her body all protests were quickly silenced. As her state of mind returned to her, a name hit her harder than mortality had.

"Legolas." Fear whispered, catching his undivided attention. His eyes tried to search hers for something but seemed disappointed in the lack of. Her eyes widened in realization and instead of swallowing the soup in her mouth she let some dribble out as she momentarily choked. She recovered quickly and Legolas wiped away the liquid streaming down her chin. "Where is-" she hesitated. Dare she mention Thorin and the company? What if they hadn't been caught yet? What if they had already escaped in the barrels? She couldn't bring them to his attention, but something made her queasy at the thought of Thorin leaving her behind and she found that her heart was caught in her throat. Her eyes flickered to the corner of the room where a small shadow could be seen shivering. The situation was peculiar because nothing appeared to be casting the shadow until Fear realized that Bilbo must've been standing in the corner, waiting for Legolas to leave. She didn't finish her sentence, her mind too preoccupied with her thoughts, but Legolas seemed to understand.  
"The dwarf that dared to lay his hands on you? Worry not; he is locked up in a cell as my father waits for an explanation from him. I have heard rumor that fourteen others were found just a while ago, I must go later to see if it is true. Regardless, they shall not harm you now. You are protected well, you may rest now. My father, the Elvenking, will wish to speak with you later." And with that, Legolas stood, his hair gleaming silver in the flame's light, and left with one last reassuring smile.

With her eyes still glued to the door, Fear said "Bilbo, take off the ring."

He complied, and looked somewhat baffled. "You knew?" He asked.

"Oh, please. Of course I knew. Tell me, what was the creature like? Smé- uh, Gollum. Was he really- Oh!" Bilbo looked startled as she raised her voice, "Thorin! Have you seen him, Bilbo? Is he ill from the poison?"

"Thorin is here? I had no idea… I slipped the ring on just as the dwarves were being taken away, but I haven't seen Thorin since before the…" He trailed off, shivering at the not-so-distant memories.  
"Bilbo, listen carefully. The Elvenking Thranduil is keeping Thorin away from the company on purpose. You must find him, please. He should be deep in the dungeons. If you must, merely wait outside them with the ring on until someone comes to bring him food." Bilbo nodded rapidly as he soaked up her words, only to falter when she asked, "Speaking of, have you eaten anything?" When he stared at his toes she handed him the half full bowl of soup and forced him to sit down next to her. His hands were shaking and the spoon rattled against the bowl, though he tried hard to conceal it. After who knows how many minutes the bowl was empty and Bilbo's hands began to steady. Fear hated having to send Bilbo on his own; the poor hobbit was out of his league. Although, he definitely proved himself as he valiantly fought away spiders to protect his dwarves.

True to his word, Legolas returned later that day- or night; it was impossible to tell the time of day, and behind him entered Thranduil. Lo and behold! Never before had she seen such a terrible beauty before in her life. His features were chiseled and hard, his eyes cold and yet something about his picture frozen state screamed immortality. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Bilbo's shadow slip past the door and he ran off, seizing the moment to look for the leader of the company. Fear stood from her spot on the bed and fell to her knees as she bowed her head. It seemed like an eternity had passed since she had done the very same act in front of Death.

Thranduil said in a cold tone, "Rise" and Fear did. She began to internally panic when she realized that he was expecting answers and she didn't have an alibi just yet. Although, the panic subdued slightly when she remembered that this idiot thought she was kidnapped by a dwarf. He asked simple questions at first beginning with her name, to which she replied with Sigyn, the nickname Mr. Baggins had blurted out before they had ever entered Greenwood the Great. Next were things slightly more complicated, like what sort of race she belonged to.

To this, she replied with, "The legends you have heard of Halflings, Ents, and Stone Giants are true. There are many other legends unheard of that lurk beyond the borders of Greenwood the Great. I am one of those." Thranduil was pleased with this answer, thank the gods! He seemed to like Fear as their conversation grew more casual and relaxed, and it pained him to ask his final question. He wanted to know what she was doing with the dwarves. Fear clenched her jaw for a moment, until an image of the immortal Chaos and Pain formed in her head.

_Quit it, Loki!_

A voice that was not hers spoke in her head, it said_, "Sorry, just trying to help." _

"Amongst the dwarves are two dwarrowdams. I was in their debt and they agreed that my service would be fulfilled if I could keep them safe on their journey since dwarvish women are scarce. I have no knowledge of the whereabouts of their journey; they were keen on keeping their secrets." Fear forced her voice to grow harsh at her last words, filling them with a faux hatred that pleased Thranduil.

_"Dolt." _Said the voice in her head.

Loki was right, the Elvenking was a fool. His hatred for dwarves was childish and if she had revealed that she was enamored of the dwarves Thranduil would've thrown her into the dungeons right then and there. Sucking up to him was cowardly and it felt so wrong to betray her friends, even if the words leaving her lips were false. Thranduil tried to scowl when she told him she was working with the dwarves, but secretly he was pleased that she was so true to her words that she was willing to put up with dwarves. He told her she was free to go, but she refused and said that she could not abandon the one's she had sworn her service to. After a moment of deep thought, Thranduil declared her a guest of the palace, but stated that the dwarves could not leave until they confessed their expedition's goal.

She wouldn't let Bilbo stay by himself, she couldn't bear the thought of him hiding in corners with the ring on, constantly scared of being found. Instead she forced him to stay with her when he wasn't wandering about the Elvenking's palace. It took a while to persuade him to join her in the bed, but she didn't care if he thought it was indecent. She only wanted the warmth of someone by her side. He snuck about the palace for a fortnight and learned the whereabouts of all the dwarves save Thorin, and he reassured Fear that her "sisters" were fine, even though she hadn't asked about them. So one day, when Bilbo came scurrying noisily down the halls with news of Thorin, she couldn't contain her relief and excitement and embraced Mr. Baggins so tightly until he was sputtering and red in the face. When he recovered, he launched into speech about another entrance, or exit, in the palace; a stream. Then he spoke of a trap door that lead up to the king's cellar. And then he mentioned barrels, and by this point the excitement had long melted off of Fear's face. The very next day, the desperate plan was put into action.

Thranduil was in a good mood when he came into Fear's chambers and asked to accompany her to the night's feast. Was the Elvenking asking her out to dinner? This was a whole new level of strange. Dresses of all sorts were sent up to her and two blonde elves, she had forgotten their names, spent all day fixing her up for the feast. By the time they were done her skin had been rid of layers of grime and her hair was almost as silky as theirs. They left her when she persisted she could put a dress on herself, and as the door closed behind them Bilbo pulled his ring off.

"A bit pretentious, these elves, wouldn't you say? I mean, they're completely oblivious to the dragon living so close." Mr. Baggins said, rolling his eyes at the surplus of jewelry they had left for her to choose from.

"I don't think they choose to ignore the dragon, Master Baggins. I think they just don't know it's there. I have a feeling Thranduil is keeping secrets from his kingdom." Fear replied in defense of Legolas. She found the most comfortable dress she could, another black fabric but this time with sleeves, and rummaged through the dresser until she found two wolf hides, one for Bilbo and a larger one for herself. Putting boots on under her dress, she snuck away into the night. With his ring on, Bilbo lead the way and Fear followed behind as he guided her by holding the tips of her fingers. They froze when they heard footsteps coming their way. There was no crook large enough to conceal Fear and Bilbo had no time to give her the ring because just around the corner came the Elvenking Thranduil, along with four guards, and they didn't look pleased at all.

* * *

_**A/N: Okay, so remember when I said I need a few hours of sleep and then the next chapter would be up? Yeah, well, I lied. Sorry. **_

_**I'm thinking I'll make the updates a weekly thing.**_

_**My dear Russian friend, things are getting exciting! I know what you're thinking, Thranduil is being too nice. This is too good to be true.**_

_**I don't know about you but my fingers and toes are getting colder with every moment, I could really use a Warg coat or something along the sorts right about now. **_

_**Anyways, what is going to happen in the next chapter, how is Fear going to worm her way out of this one? Stay tuned to find out (omg that sounds like a really cliche ending to and episode of teen wolf or something). **_


	10. Chapter 10: Our Part To Play

It was all over. She was caught in the act. It was just a matter of time before Thranduil the stunning Elvenking tossed her into the dungeons where she wouldn't be able to reach Thorin OR Chaos and Pain, and everyone would soon die from the spider's venom. Fear suspected Loki had something to do with her own alarmingly quick revival. So, it was to her surprise when Thranduil broke into a childish grin, his eyes gleaming as he soaked up her image. He spoke something in Sindarin to himself, then gathered his senses and cleared his throat.  
"You're early. I did not expect you until later,"  
Fear stared at him for a moment in disbelief, then threw a sweet smile onto her face and said, "I apologize for startling you, m'lord. I asked for you and all fingers pointed to this direction." She noticed Legolas trying to catch her eye from behind the guards.  
"Why were you asking for me?" Thranduil blurted out.  
Spoilers.  
"I was hoping to try some wine, I've heard whispers in the wind that the wood elves have the most divine drink that anyone has ever set their tongues upon. I've heard that tasting your wine is like tasting the stars,"  
Thranduil nodded, but he still wasn't sure how he fitted in with her alibi.  
"I want to taste the stars _with you._" She added.  
Clarity dawned on the Elvenking and he forgot an entire immortal life time of being raised as royalty and he lost his composure. His eyes widened, his mouth was left in a gaping O like a teenager about to get laid for the first time.  
Thranduil, my friend, you definitely need to get laid. Just not by me. Maybe that pretty red-head I saw earlier.  
All the meanwhile Legolas stood in the background with a smug look on his chiseled face.  
Thranduil extended his arm and Fear took it as she had no choice but to comply as he led the way down the eerie halls with the faint pitter patter of feet that you wouldn't have heard unless you knew who it was.

The guards began to follow their trail immediately, until Legolas shooed them away and reassured them that the Elvenking needn't take any precautions around "Sigyn". So down they went, through a cave with plenty of trap doors until Thranduil opened one that led to the king's cellar.

"Ladies first," He said,

"I'm not a lady," Fear replied, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not picky" Thranduil countered, his eyes clouded and off guard, no wonder he hadn't noticed when she knocked his keys from him and onto the floor.

She went in and there stood barrels and barrels and barrels and a sweet aroma filled the air and tickled her nose.

"I knew you were fond of wine, but I had never imagined this," Fear whispered to herself.

She turned around abruptly when she heard the door shut. Bilbo hadn't gotten through, but perhaps he'd be able to rally the rest of the company. She had no time to figure it out because Thranduil began to take steps closer to her, closing in on her like a predator does to prey. She took steps backwards until she backed into an empty barrel, The Elvenking just inches away from her.

"Wine!" She blurted out, pulling him out of his daze.

"Wine," He agreed, "Right. Now come with me, and taste the new wine that has just come in" He led her through isles of barrels, all giving off different fragrances. They clinked glasses and drank, but Fear took no more than three sips. It took all the will power she had to not dunk herself into the wine, she really was tasting the stars. Alas, she needed to stay focused and clear-headed, and drink was not going to help her achieve her objective, although it did help keep Thranduil dull and slow. With each drink Thranduil laughed louder than before, his arm dangling sloppily over her shoulder, dangerously close to her no-touching zone. And yet, Fear put up with it. She put up with his warmth wine-breath in her face and his loud yet slurred speech. She refilled his glass every time he emptied it and he grew less aware after every glass.

"Gimmie suh –_hiccup_- mooore, Siiiiiiiiiiiiigin!" He cried out, right before he collapsed and hit the floor, snoring majestically in a way she hadn't thought possible..

"Finally!" She cried out, dropping the stupid glass, still half full. She rushed through the aisles, knocking over a few barrels on the way, and opened the same trap door to find sixteen small silhouettes lurking in the dark. They all scurried in, the last to follow being Thorin Oakenshield.

Fear had thought that she would never see anything as beautiful as the elves of Mirkwood ever again, but when Thorin walked into the flickering flames of the wine cellar her heart all but leaped out of her chest. He was covered in dirt and blood, yet Fear swore she could've jumped on him right then and there. He was so handsome, so _rugged_. She just stood there for a few seconds, soaking up his image until she was literally pulled away by Bilbo. Master Baggins had found a new level of courage in the last few days and she was very proud of him, he was going to need it. So down into the lowest cellars they crept, Fear up front being led by Bilbo and Thorin coming up in the rear of the company.

Have you ever tried to open a wine barrel while you're trying to escape from elves who hate your friends? Well then, don't.

They could not be easily opened without a great deal of noise, and once they were opened they weren't securely closed again. Fortunately, there were all sorts of barrels and packages to choose from, ranging in weight and size.

Unfortunately, there was nothing tall enough for Fear to sit comfortably in. She did find a large crate with bits of food left that was large enough to squeeze her in if she hugged her knees. And to think, Oin was actually worried that his barrel was too large. Then they heard the slurred speech of elves, and everyone held their breath, even Bilbo, who had only slipped the ring on moments before. All eager to get back to their feast, they wanted nothing more than to do their work quickly, yet still they complained about the immense weight of the barrels. Inside was dark, moist and so cold that Fear's fingers began to tremble. Ignoring this, she placed her hands firmly against the sides of the barrel in hopes to stabilize the constant nauseous bobbing, but her efforts were useless for the barrel persisted on swaying up and down, until she finally felt it being dragged into shallow waters. And she stayed stuck in that position all night, the muscles in her legs screaming out in discomfort. And she fell asleep like that, but just before she drifted off, she could've sworn she heard someone whisper something.

_"They're coming. All of them. And we've each got our part to play, even you." _Said the all-too-familiar voice. _Loki._

And when she was so rudely woken up several horrifying hours later, she realized that she was once again moving through the water.

They had escaped the dungeons of the king and were through the wood!


	11. Chapter 11: Baldur's Back

When Bilbo uncovered a large crate, he looked down upon someone who once looked so incredibly powerful, now sniffling in a hunched position with tear streaks staining her face. When Fear looked up at the blinding sunlight, for a split second she thought her savior was a God, and after a few incredibly long moments her eyes adjusted and it was Bilbo standing there, not Loki. But Bilbo quickly disappeared, or rather he was pushed out of the way by a frantic Thorin Oakenshield who quickly reached inside and hoisted her out. Sore and stiff her body was, so bruised she could hardly stand. Thorin's rescuer-esque demeanor was thrown away when he began stumbling and swaying himself and Fear began to notice how pale he had become, and the beads of sweat rolling down his face.

_The spider's venom. _

Thorin stumbled through the shallow water and lied on the ground, groaning. One by one, the dwarves were helped out of the barrels, and one by one, they grunted and groaned and all thoughts of appreciation for their freedom were forgotten. Then they regained their speech and 'What now's were thrown about.

"I suggest Lake Town," Bilbo said

"That would be logical," Pain replied, lying on the ground staring into the sky, panting for her breath. And so, they all walked-or limped- their way to the gates, the guards astonished when Thorin walked right in. And despite his hollow face and dirty attire, he spoke with such conviction that only the King under the mountain had the ability to speak. Without much choice, the guards escorted Thorin and his (rather large) company to the Master who was apparently in the middle of a feast.

They walked over a bridge, through gates, and into a market place surrounded by houses and from a great hall lights could be seen and voices could be heard.

Thorin walked right on in, his company not hesitating to follow his lead, but Fear put her hands onto the shoulders of Pain and Chaos, and the three lingered in the doorway. Everyone leapt to their feet as Thorin's booming voice echoed through the hall, some with great respect on their faces, and others like the Master with fury. But then the elves were most surprised and when they rose to their feet and protested, the three women hid their faces, out of sight. But they had no need to worry for Thorin put them in their place. Yet nothing was more alarming than the word of the return of the king that had spread across the town like wildfire. So Thorin sat at the head table in the Master's spot with Fili and Kili on either sides of him, and Fear sat in-between Chaos and Pain at the very back of the hall.

A large house was given to the company and they quickly settled in for they had such few possessions to begin with. Kili got bored easily and suggested that they stroll around the city to explore, and they were bombarded with cheers the moment they showed their (rather large) noses. Bilbo left as well, Pain and Chaos on him like fire on wood but Fear paid no attention because she had her eyes on Thorin. She made sure he stayed back and before long they had the entire house to their own. It was dark when the last of the company had returned, the stars shining miraculously bright over Lake-town. They all had noticed Thorin's door was shut so they assumed he was in great need of sleep. Nobody saw the clothes spilled over the floor inside, garments thrown round lazily. Nobody saw Fear, her head cradled in Thorin's neck, her arm on his bare chest. Fear listened to Thorin's even breath until she found herself falling asleep to the rhythm, but when she opened her eyes she was no longer in the large house. In fact, she was pretty sure she wasn't even in Middle-Earth, let alone Lake Town.

Her wrists were bound in chains above her head, her ankles chained in iron as well. Looking around she saw figures talking leisurely, laughing and drinking… whatever it was, it wasn't wine. Someone with a hallow face zoomed past her, Mercury. He looked erratic, volatile and unstable which made sense since chasing after him with a smirk was Baron Samedi, she recognized him from his top hat and the lack of flesh and muscle on his skull face.

Lingering in the back was Zao Shen, lulling over the hors-d'oevures and bickering with Odin, who whined over the lack of meat.

In a blink of an eye she was transported into a dark room, one she presumed to be empty.

Her muscles froze when her eyes made contact with a handsome and familiar face that emerged from the shadows. _Baldur._ He walked towards her and she was at a loss for words.

"What's the matter, silver tongue turn to lead?" He said, a sly grin crawling onto his face. "Don't worry, you're not the only one who was surprised to see me, Thor thought this was one of Loki's illusions and he refused to come."

"How are you alive?" She blurted out, hair falling to her face. She blew at it, hoping it would fall away but it remained stubborn. With a wave of his hands Baldur removed the chains and that's when she notice she was dressed in an extravagant and flow-y black dress, encrusted with a golden breast place.

"Asgardians," She rolled her eyes. In a flash of a moment she was seated at the head of a long and extravagant table, on the other end was Loki staring back at her with his big blue puppy eyes that screamed out "I'm so sorry," over and over again. He squinted at her for a moment, before saying, "Did you… sleep with that dwarf?"

"Out of all things you could be asking, that's what bothers you most?" Fear snarled at him.

Any attempt at escape was out of the question since her wrists and ankles were chained to the chair. She had a feeling Loki was in a similar situation. Fear began to shuffle the chair closer to the table, where white transparent berries sat just out of her grasp until she banged into the table and they rolled into her hands. Loki mimicked her actions just as all at once, Gods of all pantheons piled in after one another; Hades, Kali, Aphrodite, Ganesh, Ares, Poseidon, Zeus, a man she didn't recognize who's name tag simply stated 'Chuck' who looked incredibly nervous and shifty. They all took their seats down the table, the last to pile in being Baldur. Even Odin himself seemed surprised at his appearance, but above all everyone was relieved. Baldur, the most beloved, was back. Nobody cared how or why, but soon all eyes glared at Loki who shrunk under the harsh gazes and looked at no one but Fear. When the last four figures entered, she squeezed her eyes shut in hopes that this was all just a dream and that she'd wake up next to Thorin once again. She had no such luck as the four horsemen stalked towards her, Death placing his bony hands on her shoulders.

_Okay, think. How do I get out of this mess? I'm in deep trouble but maybe if Loki was freed he'd be able to do something. _

Loki seemed to understand or hear her thoughts when Baldur began speaking.

"Am I interrupting something, dear brother? A silent conversation, oh please share with the rest of us." Baldur's velvety smooth voice flowed through everyone's ears. Loki gulped.

"I'm going to kill you when I get out of these chains," Fear said to Loki, a look of betrayal sprawling across his face. Death tightened his grip on her, leaned in and whispered into her ear, "I'd hate to ruin your plans, but I'm going to have to kill you before that happens,"

"And besides, I'm the only one that gets to kill Loki," Baldur interjected. Death straightened up, his grip loosening.

"Is that so, boy?" Death replied. Baldur looked taken aback, as if no one had ever had the audacity to question him. Fortunately, Loki wasn't the only one who wasn't so enamored of Baldur.

"What are you going to do, throw mistletoe at him?" chimed in Mercury, who shrunk in his seat with one sharp glare from Death.

His grip left Fear's shoulders and he stalked over to Baldur, leaving her to squeeze the acid out of the mistletoe, which burned straight through the iron chains and leaking onto the chains around her ankles. She took one meaningful look at Loki and all chaos broke loose. The Gods broke into arguments, all shouting and insulting each other and during the conundrum Fear and Loki simply stood and walked silently out the door. It didn't take long for the gods to notice, however. Soon they were all banging on the door as Loki held it shut.

"Go!" He shouted, "You're running out of time. I'll give you my scepter but you need to be fast or else they'll all die-" What he planned to say after that, she never found out because Baldur's hands were around Loki's neck and Death was stalking in her direction when she woke up with a start on the bed, naked, next to Thorin in Lake Town.


	12. Chapter 12: My Pile of Cockroaches

_"Marry me," He blurted out._

_"What?" She cried out incredulously._

_"I am the King of Erebor and I want you to be my Queen," Thorin stated simply._

_"I could never be the Queen of Erebor," Fear retorted._

_"But you're already my Queen, why not just make it official," He pondered. _

_"This is something I never would've imagined, Thorin Oakenshield being spontaneous and irrational," She countered._

_"What, my wedding proposal is irrational?" He asked._

_"Yes!"_

_"How?"_

_"Well for starters, the Queen of Erebor, if there ever is to be one, must be a dwarrowdam. Not… whatever I am," She said._

_"But you are my Queen," He replied, sending a pang through her heart._

_"Oh, please," Fear replied, rolling her eyes._

_"I speak the truth." Thorin said, rasing his hands in defence._

_"I'm not fit for ruling at your side," She said, more seriously._

_"Of course you are," He replied, wrapping his arms around her waist,_

_"But I'm…" Fear trailed off,_

_"What?" He asked._

_ "I'm a monster," She answered._

_"You are no such thing."_

_"But I am, aren't I? I'm no better than the monsters parents tell their children about."_

_"You are worth a great deal to me. I do not wish to rule Erebor if you are not at my side," He said placidly._

_Fear stared long and hard at him, soaking up those words._

_"Are you listening to yourself? There was a time where you wanted nothing but to retake Erebor and now you say you would give it up if I were not at your side?"_

_"I am fully aware of what I've said, thank you very much. Now, I asked you a question; will you marry me? Say no and I'll never set foot in Erebor again," His face was so close that the hairs on his face tickled her._

_"By Gods Thorin, you are ridiculous!" She said, trying to push him away without making an effort._

_"Is that a yes?" He pleaded._

_She grinned and nodded and he swooped her up and whispered into her ear, "Well, we better consummate our marriage; you know, dwarven customs and all that,"_

_Fear narrowed her eyes at him in disbelief but nevertheless she giggled as he carried her up the stairs to his room. _

* * *

"Come back to bed," Thorin said, his speech slurred from slumber.

"No!" Fear cried out, her voice loud but trembling with a hint of panic as she stumbled around the room and threw on her clothes. Her assertiveness brought some sense to him as he tried to shake off the cobwebs of sleep. He finally crawled out of bed and began pulling on his clothes, but he didn't even have one arm in his tunic before she ran out of the room and down the stairs. When Thorin did finally go downstairs, there was a sight that he had never thought he would ever see.

Pain and Chaos were trying to murder Bilbo Baggins. The redhead held his arms from behind and pulled his hair to lift his head back, and the golden-haired had a dagger to his throat. All the dwarves stood a few paces behind, shocked at the events playing out before them.

"Please, my sisters. Stop this madness." Fear begged, which was met by snarls from the dwarrowdams. "Leave him be! Master Baggins has never done anything to harm you,"

"Perhaps not," Said Pain from behind Bilbo, "But he has something we can use."

"The ring? Is that what you seek? Is it really that great of worth, that you are willing to take this hobbits life?"

"We must have the ring!" They said in unison.

"Then take it!" Fear replied back with an equal amount of venom, "Just leave Bilbo out of this,"

"It doesn't work that way, _sister_. The ring works best when its former owner is deceased."

"This isn't you talking, it's the ring. It's influencing you, can't you see?"

"We are clear of mind, _dolt_. The ring has no effect on dwarves."

"It would seem that the ring should have no effect on you, but I believe the reappearance of mortality has also brought back something human, something… greedy. I just don't understand, what do you two want with the ring?"

"To regain power, _you moron!_ We are mortal, a fate worse than death!"

"But you've forgotten why you became mortal in the first place," Kili whispered as he and Fili slowly took steps closer.

"You two fell in love and your bodies adapted so you could be with your lovers, but a mortal mind made your sight clouded by the ring, didn't it?" Fili inquired.

"You don't understand how it feels," Chaos whimpered, her eyes brimming with tears, "With every moment the call of the ring grows louder. It beckoned to us with whispered promises of power. It said we can live forever again."

"But what kind of life would that be?" Fear asked. The following occurred so quickly that no one had noticed what happened until it was all over.

In a matter of seconds, Loki's golden scepter appeared in her hand, the blade razor-sharp. Next, Fear plunged the scepter straight through Chaos' stomach until it prodded through her back, causing her to drop the dagger and stumble backwards into Pain when the scepter pierced her as well.

"Between gold lust and the one ring, you've been driven insane." Fear whispered, tears streaking down her face as she pulled the scepter out, now coated with blood. Chaos and Pain fell to the ground, their guts oozing out warm blood and their attempts at stopping the flow useless. The blue gem in Loki's scepter glowed bright and there appeared the God of Mischief, bloody and bruised, his clothes ripped and tattered.

Fear looked him in the eyes and cupped his cheek with her hand. "Oh, Loki. What have you done?"

"I did it for you. It's not too late, you know. We could run for it, go to one of the other nine realms." He said, his voice full of hope. Fear shook her head. "But I already knew your answer." He added. Taking back his staff, he turned to Thorin. "So this is your choice? This dwarf over me, are you sure? We can still bring back your sisters and you wouldn't be casted as a mortal."

"I choose my king." Fear replied, her voice strong and stern that it even made Thorin stand a little straighter.

"So you're willing to die for a pile of cockroaches," Loki pointed out,"why?"

"They're better than us." She answered.

"They are broken, flawed." He countered.

"Damn right they're flawed! But a lot of them try to do better, to forgive." Fear retorted.

Loki whispered to her, "Don't make me do this."

"No one makes you do anything." She replied.

"I know you think you're doing the right thing, but I know where your heart truly lies. It's not with these flawed-"

"You call them flawed, but what does that make us? Monsters! I've made my choice, why won't you help me?" She interjected.

"I'm trying to help you!" He cried out.

"No you're not. You're trying to keep me for yourself. Just save my husband, you promised me you would."

"I didn't think it would end here, like this." Loki said, as if he were already mourning her.

"End? This is just another path I must take," She explained.

"Yeah, well I don't want you to take this one. And not with him." He said stubbornly.

Fear scoffed, "Gods… You all think you own the planet. What gives you the right?"

In a whisper so hushed it was barely audible he replied with, "No one gives us the right, we take it."

Fear ended the discussion with, "Then that really does make you a monster."

Without another word Loki pressed the tip of his scepter, still coated in blood, to Thorin's chest menacingly. Fear was about to protest when Loki cut her off.

"You wanted me to save him; this is how I will do it,"

And a darkness began to glow where Thorin's blood flowed, the black venom made its way from Thorin's arm to his chest where it was sucked right into Loki's scepter. He gave Fear one final look, his eyes wanting to say so much more than he had and before Fear could say good-bye he was gone and never seen again.


End file.
